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NEW SERIES, No. 55. 


Annual Monitor 

For 1897, 




In ^vtat Britain antr Jrielanii, 

. FOR THE YEAR 1896. 


Sold by Headley Bros., 14, Bishopsgate Without ; 


Mary Sessions, 30, Coney Street, York ; 
ALSO by 

J. AND S. GouGH, Temperance Hotel, Dublin ; 
and by THE Editor, 
William Robinson, St. Ouens, Weston-super-Mare. 




only the eye of faith can see it, as well as by 
their li ves, they have greatly served the cause 
that was so near their hearts. 

It is deeply instructive to be able to trace 
what can be nothing else than the working of the 
Holy Spirit, or, as George Fox loved to call it, 
the light of Christ, in the hearts and lives of 
God's visited children, in our own days as surely 
as ill the past. There are those now amongst us 
who can tell how in their inmost souls they have 
seen, as it were a finger pointing the way for 
them, or have heard a voice that spoke words 
heard by none but themselves, but clearly making 
known to them the mind and will of Him who 
thus dealt with them ; or who can speak of a holy 
joy that has arisen within them, as they have felt 
a gentle yet powerful attraction in their hearts to 
service, sometimes simple, at other times more com- 
prehensive, and were made willing to yield them- 
selves to the call. And with humble thankfulness 
these can testify that as they have sought closely 
to follow Him who thus put them forth, it has 
been a very blessed guidance to which they have 
entrusted themselves, and that it has led them in 
the way of wisdom and of peace. It was thus 
that when William Penn was but a youth at 
Oxford, there came to him what he calls "an 



opening of joy," as the thought of that " holy 
experiment " sprang in his heart, when he would 
seek to set up a happy Commonwealth across the 
sea, where brotherhood and equality should be 
foundation stones, where conscience should be 
freed from all oppression, and peace should for 
ever reign. So, too, with William Johnson, 
when a light-hearted, humorous lad at Ackworth. 
A something came to his heart, raising in him 
the thought and longing after w^ork in the foreign 
mission field. Was not that something a mani- 
festation to him of the mind and purpose of God 
for him ? And did it not eventually lead him 
to his appointed and blessed life-work ? With 
John T. Borland, also, whom the call from above 
constrained to lay aside the ambitions and hopes 
of youth, and to give himself up to that devoted 
and fruitful service for the Lord, which to our 
finite thinking has been too soon cut short by 
his early death. Let us seek to be " wise and 
observe these things," that we may more fully 
recognise the dealings of the Lord with us ; and 
we shall find that the Psalmist used words of 
practical truth when he wrote in the name of the 
Lord, — " I will instruct thee and teach thee in 
the way that thou shalt go ; I will guide thee 
with Mine eye " ; and that there may be very 



real significance for us in the saying of Jesus, — 
" I am the light of the world, he that followeth 
Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the 
light of life." 

I am glad to be able to introduce the brief 
notice of our friend Louis Easche, and thus to 
invite some thought for the little companies of 
Friends in Germany. They have difficulties and 
disadvantages to contend with of which we in 
this country know but little. They claim our 
Christian interest and sympathy. May these be 
extended to them in full measure, and, in all 
right ways, very practically. 


St. Ouens^ 


Twelfth month, 1896. 

Ijisf of (Uemows. 

Isaac Brown. 
Hannah S.B. Bunting. 
Mary Cadbury. 
John T. Borland. 
Richard Estp:rbrook. 
Susanna Fayle. 
Charles Gillett. 
Agnes M. Gillett. 
William Johnson. 
Lucy Johnson. 

Marie Hilton. 
Samuel Metford. 
Samuel Newton. 
Louis Rasche. 
Ellen Richardson. 
James N. Richardson. 
James Hack Tuke. 
Anna L. Westcombe. 
Mary Whitaker. 
Francis W. Wood. 

These memoirs are published on the sole responsi- 
bility of the loriters, their friends, and the Editor. 





Age. Time of Decease. 

Dora P. Abbott, 22 21 Imo. 1896, 

Malton. Daughter of John and Phoebe 

Eliza Ann Abbott, 92 23 Imo. 1896. 

Walthamstoiv. Widow of Benjamin Abbott, 

formerly of Hitch in. 
Ursula M. Albright, 11 22 Imo. 1896. 

Edghaston. Daughter of George and Isabella 

M. Albright. 
Mary E. Andrews, 62 3 3mo. 1896. 

Cotherston. Wife of James Andrews. 
Katherine Argo, 64 19 6mo. 1896. 

Sumvierhill^ Aberdeen. Widow of John Argo. 
Frederick 0. Ashby, 20 4 Umo. 1895. 

Sidcot. Son of Edmund and Eliza Ashby. 



JosKrn Atkinson, 78 8 9mo. 1896. 

Mary Atkinson, 82 8 6nio. 1896. 

Gainford^ Durham. An Elder. Widow of 

Anthony Atkinson. 

J'osHUA Baker, 60 15 llmo. 1895. 

Hoivth^ DuhVm. 

Samuel Baker, 69 27 lOmo. 1895. 


I&abella Barclay, 41 1 lOmo. 1895. 

Frederick Barcroft, 50 3 9mo. 1896. 
Stangmore^ Grange^ Ireland. 

Hm>DAH Barrington, 75 7 lOino. 1895. 

Bray, Co. Wicldoio. Widow of Edward Bar- 

John Baynes, 71' 27 lOmo. 1895. 

Charlotte 0. Beale, 51 10 8mo. 1896. 

Corh. Wife of Alfred Beale. 

eiEORGE A. Beale, 31 5 4mo. 1896. 

Cork. Son of George C. and Arabella Beale. 

William Beaumont, 79 25 7nio. 1896. 


William Benington, 93 12 2mo. 1896. 
Scarborough, formerly of Stocldon-oii-Tees, An 



Anna M. BiDDLECOMBE, 68 25 81110. 1896. 

Hodgson Bigland, 75 14 Imo. 1896. 


Martha A. Binyon, 80 8 2mo. 1896. 

Worcester. Widow of Thomas Binyon. 
Ellen Boorne, 66 29 Imo. 1896. 

Reaclbig. Wife of James Boorne. 
Rachel Bracher, 58 11 4mo. 1896. 

Mere^ Wiltshire. An Elder. Wife of Edwin 


Alfred Brady, 92 1 llmo. 1895. 

Norton^ Stochton-on-Tees. 
Thomas Braithwaite, 80 17 5mo. 1896., 

Airtoii, near Settle. 
Edward Brearley, 75 16 4mo. 1896. 


Charles Brightwen, 45 20 2mo. 1896. 
llldey. . 

William Brqckbank, 66 18 9mo. 1896. 

Didshary^ Manchester. 
Herbert W. Brqckbank, 37 14 8mo. 1895. 

Yokohama, Japan. Son of William and Jane 

Brockbank, of Didsbmy. 
George Brooker, 46 17 8mo. 1896. 

Cocker ynouth. 



Elizabeth Brown, 68 27 Gmo. 1896. 

Tifffle/gh, near Gloucester. Wife of Alfred 

Helen C. Brown, 35 27 llnio. 1895. 

Falmouth. Daughter of Daniel and Lucy 

Isaac Brown, 92 3 Umo. 1895. 

B'nDitholme^ Kendal. A Minister. 

To few is it given to live beyond four score 
years and ten ; to fewer still to retain, at that 
advanced age, the mental faculties in clearness, 
though it may be in weakened force ; to maintain 
a lively interest in the material and intellectual 
advances of the age, in associations and agencies 
of human beneficence, and in the spread of the 
knowledge of the Gospel of Christ in every land. 
But it was thus with our late friend Isaac Brown. 
To the close of his long life (he passed away in 
his ninety-third year) the daily newspaper, the 
scientific review, the publications of the Society 
of Friends, the missionary records of rehgious 
bodies, the issues of the Palestine Exploration 
Fund, volumes of Biblical exegesis — all had their 
interest for him : and, before and above all, his 
study of the Holy Scriptures, in the English ver- 
sion,, and in the original languages, formed a 
distinct part ofhis daily occupations. 



His parents, Stephen and Phoebe Brown, 
were living on a farm called Aniwellbury, near 
Ware, in Hertfordshire, where Isaac, their eldest 
child was born on the 27th of Seventh month, 
1803. Six years afterwards, the family left fhe 
farm and, to use his own words, " to relieve ;hti« 
mother, as the oldest and probably the most 
troublesome, he was taken by his uncle, Isaac 
Bass, of Brighton, for two years ; and after this 
he was never at home with his parents except or 
a visit of a few weeks at a time." 

When eight years old he went for six year« 
to the Friends' School at Islington. Here he was 
fonder of study than of games, often carrying m 
his pocket a pair of compasses and a small 
volume of Euclid. 

He next went for a year to Isaac Payne'-s 
school at Epping, which at that time stood .first 
as a classical school for Friends, and, at fiftee«i 
years old, was engaged by 1. Payne as his appren- 
tice for six years. He had at the same time the 
offer of a situation as junior clerk in the office of 
Overend and Gurney, in London, but his motlier"'s 
fears for her son, exposed as he would be to the 
temptations of the great city, and probably his 
own love of study, turned the scale in favour of 
the higher calling. At the close of his apprentice- 


sliffp Isaac Pa3^ne proposed to retain him as a 
teacher at a small salary. At the same time his 
BDcle Isaac Bass offered him a position in his 
cownting-house at double the sum ; but the 
occupation of a teacher had been gradually 
iimfolding to him as his life's work, and he 
lemained at Epping five years longer. 

During these years he was an earnest student, 
toiling at Greek, Latin and mathematics, and 
taking advantage of the residence of a French 
teacher in the school, to acquire familiarity with 
that language. 

At that time, Isaac Brown passed through 
much spiritual conflict, having to fight his way 
against doubts raised in his own mind, or 
suggested by one of his fellow teachers, who, like 
so many at that period, professed to be an Atheist. 

The Friends' Meeting at Epping at that time 
was held mostly in silence, and he received little 
help in it. But as he humbly yet earnestly 
sought to know the Truth, Christ revealed Him- 
self to him as "the Truth and the Life." He did 
not, however, experience a consciously sudden 
entrance into the liberty that there is in Christ 
Jesus. Years afterwards, in talking with Joseph 
Wardell, who was gardener at the Flounders In- 
stitute for many years, and comparing their 



experience of the Lord's dealings with them, he 
said, " Thou wast born direct into the New Tes- 
tament ; I was born through the Old into the 
New : thine was a sliort journey, mine was a 
long one " ; implying that Avliile his friend's was a 
sudden entrance from darkness into light, his own 
w^as first the glimmer, then the dawning, before 
he was conscious of the perfect day. 

In 1829, at the age of 26, he felt the time 
had come for him to take a further step in his 
profession, and to open a boarding school of his 
own for the sons of Friends. An opening pre- 
sented itself at Hitchin. The school began with 
twenty boarders and some day scholars. 

In the following year I. Brown's mother 
died. She was a woman of no ordinary 
character, and was one to whom was given " the 
gift of healing." Not only did she supply simple 
remedies for ordinary sicknesses, but she would 
dress with her own hands the wound or the sore, 
and thus won the confidence and love of her 
poorer neighbours. I. Brown always spoke of 
her with tender affection. His father, Stephen 
Brown, died in 1836. He was a man of much 
energy and determination, and possessed a hope- 
ful and cheerful disposition, which was a striking 
feature of his son's character. 



In the Sixth month of 1833, I. Brown 
married Eebecca Marriage, daughter of Thomas 
and Margaret Marriage, of Springfield, near 
Chelmsford. Their family of six children were 
all born at Hitchin. Their little boy, Alfred, 
died there in 1845 ; and their eldest daughter, 
Phebe Sophia, died in London a short time before 
I. Brown entered upon his duties at Ackworth. 
Her surviving sister says respecting her : — 
" Dying at the early age of thirteen, we were 
too young to remember much, but she has left 
upon us the impression of wonderfully mature 
religious experience for one so young. After 
her death, some memoranda were found in her 
desk, which were a great comfort to our dear 
father and mother. On one of them dear father 
loved to dwell : it was the prayer, written out 
on a slip of paper, — ' Let the words of my mouth 
and the meditations of my heart be acceptable 
in Thy sight, Lord, my Strength and my 
Kedeemer.' " 

To return to the Hitchin School. It con- 
tinued in successful working for sixteen years. 
Of the character of the instruction imparted and 
the training given, there was abundant evidence 
at a gathering in 1870, of about seventy of 
I. Brown's former pupils, all of them in mature 



life, many of them filling useful and prominent 
positions in the Society of Friends, and in the 
general community : some in the front rank of 
the professions they had followed. All testified 
to the inspiring character of the teaching and 
training they had received. They presented to 
their old master valuable testimonials of their 
esteem and affection. 

The school came to a sudden and unlooked 
for end. A fire broke out soon after midnight 
in a neighbouring cabinet manufactory. The 
wind was very high, the thermometer at twenty- 
two degrees below the freezing point. The flames 
spread to other houses, and soon reached a side 
wing of the school, burning down the large 
schoolroom, the dining-room, and a bedroom over 
it, in which eight boys had been sleeping. The 
body of the house was only saved by a ninth 
fire engine that Avas brought up from a town five 
miles ofE. This catastrophe brought his connection 
with Hitchin to a close. Whilst resident there, 
in conjunction with the late John Whiting, he 
had set on foot a Total Abstinence Society. The 
movement was then in its infancy, and much 
moral courage was needed by both these friends 
for labouring in a cause which was adverse to 
the brewing interest, as a number of influential 



Friends in Hitchin were then engaged in the 

From Hitchin he removed to Dorking, and 
opened another school for older pupils, whose 
parents were desirous of a more advanced educa- 
tion for their sons than was aimed at in any 
Friends' school at that time. But few pupils^ 
however, were forthcoming, and the school was 
but short-lived. The difficulty which he had 
experienced in meeting with masters who w^ere 
both Friends and advanced scholars, had raised 
the thought in 1. Brown's mind of establishing 
an institution for the education and training of 
teachers. It was, however, beyond his power 
to carry this out unaided, and the way ssemed 
closed. But at this juncture it was announced 
that Benjamin Flounders, of Yarm, in North 
Yorkshire, had by his will bequeathed the sum 
of £40,000 to trustees, for the endowment of an 
institution for this very purpose. A site for the 
required building was selected at Ackworth, and 
was presented to the Trust by J. J. Gurney. 
Plans for the institution, to be called the 
"Flounders Institute," were prepared, and applica- 
tions were invited for the position of Principal. 
Isaac Brown, then in his forty-third year, applied^ 
and was accepted. While the Institute was in 



course of building, its future Principal, " with 
genuine humility, considering liis age and acquire- 
ments," says one who knew him well, "became 
a student at University College, where he dili- 
gently attended the classes of the Latin and 
Greek professors. Long and Maiden, and also the 
science classes." He studied Hebrew with a 
Jewish Eabbi — all this the more fully and 
perfectly to equip himself for his important 

On the 1st of Eighth month, 1848, he 
reached Ackworth with his wife and family : 
on the 28th the Institute was opened with nine 
students, two others joining them during the 
first term. Dr. John Willis filled the post of 
College Tutor. Thus began for I. Brown the life 
and work for which he had long been hoping, as best 
suited to his powers, and in which he might, with 
fuller effect, labour for the Master in whose 
service he desired to be engaged. But on the 1st 
of Third month, 1849, his beloved wife was 
struck down with apoplexy, and passed away 
after a few hours of unconsciousness. The re- 
moval of the mother of his young family, the 
one on whom had fallen the duty of arranging 
for a large and complex household, brought him 
to a low point, and tested his faith to the utmost. 



Those who can recall this period, and can re- 
picture the daily life and converse of our dear 
friend at that time, cannot fail to remember that 
thereafter, there was in him greater gentleness, 
deeper humility, and more manifest faith and 
trust in the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Eebecca 
Brown had lived long enough so to arrange the 
domestic working of the household, that hardly 
any change was made throughout the twenty-two 
years of I. Brown's government of the Institute. 
Her duties had been so engrossing that she was 
little known to Friends around her. But her 
force of character and her lady-like demeanour 
much impressed those who had come into asso- 
ciation with her in her new home. After her 
death her iniportant position as mistress of the 
household was filled by I. Brown's sister Lucy 
for seven years. 

From the first he threw himself enthusi- 
astically into the intellectual life of the Institute. 
His classes were always greatly enjoyed, and his 
lectures were models of method and lucidity. 
Never would he allow a knotty point to be passed 
over without assuring himself that it was fully 
apprehended. " Have I made it clear ? " he 
would ask, after, for instance, explaining parallax, 
the aberration of light, or the nutation of the 



earth. " Let us go through it once more. 
Now, is there anyone who does not under- 
stand ? " So gentle and patient was he with the 
ignorance or dull comprehension of any, that 
there was little or no fear among the students 
of confessing it. His punctuality in the Lecture 
Koom at 6.30 a.m. was proverbial ; and he was a 
daring student who would venture to be late : 
his presence, his silence, and look from the desk 
was felt to be a severe rebuke. He ever culti- 
vated companionship and intercourse with the 
students, and was generally accompanied in his 
afternoon "constitutional" by some of the older 
ones. His wide and accurate knowledge of 
botany, even to the lower orders of mosses and 
fungi, made these walks charming. His friend 
J. B. Braithwaite writes: — "With regard to 
1. Brown's learning, I would speak with sincere 
diffidence. It was at once extensive and pro- 
found. I have often marvelled at his familiarity 
with the great masters of Greece and Eome — a 
familiarity which was kept up by constant study. 
It was a treat to attend his examination of the 
students at the Flounders. He seemed equally 
at his ease with Demosthenes,Xenophon, Sophocles, 
^?]schylus, Cicero, Livy, Juvenal or Tacitus. But 
it was not alone in classical literature that he was 




nt home. His richly stored mind was a well 
furnished laboratory of all the departments of 
natural science. Besides an intimate acquaintance 
with botany, niineralogy, chemistry, pneumatics, 
•etc., he was well versed in the mathematics, and 
his attainments in astronomy were very consider- 
able. But with all his manifold acquirements, 
his deep, habitual humility was very instructive. 
In his case every crown was laid low at the feet 
of his Lord and Master, to whom he felt that he 
owed all, and of whom it was his privilege to say, 
" He loved me and gave Himself for me." 

Not only as students in his classes or in the 
lecture room, but as individuals reaching up to a 
higher life, morally and spiritally, did I. Brown 
regard those who were under his care ; and it 
was his prayerful endeavour to help them in 
their aspirations. The following incident, related 
by the student himself, illustrates this : — " The 
students had returned from their vacation and 
entered upon the course of study for the ensuing 
year. One of the new comers had fallen into a 
state of much discouragement. It seemed to him 
that it would be almost impossible to attain the 
standard necessary for his future success as a 
teacher. He had, however, kept his trouble to 
himself. In the evening of a day of unusual 



depression, I. Brown requested to see him in the 
library. He tohl him that as he was reading his 
Bible in the usual place that da}^, as he came to 
a certain verse, the student was unexpectedly 
brought to liis mind, with a forcible impression 
that he must send for him and commend that 
verse to his especial attention. He had accordingly 
done so, and he handed him a paper on which 
was written — ' Fear thou not, for I am with thee ; 
be not dismayed, for I am thy God ; I will 
strengthen thee ; yea, I will help thee ; yea, I 
will uphold thee with the right hand of my 
righteousness " — Isaiah xli, 10. The effect on 
the mind of the student could not but be most 
cheering and animating, and the promise was to- 
him a helpful and sustaining watchword in times 
of trial in after life. 

In the summer of 1856, I. Brown married 
Elizabeth Thornhill, of Ack worth, and for four- 
teen years they shared together the duties and 
cares of their position ; but in 1869 a serious 
outbreak of fever occurred in the Institute, 
resulting from contamination of the water supply, 
and in the following year they felt that the time 
had come for them to resign their charge, and 
they left the Institute for their new home in 
Kendal on the 1st of Eighth month, 1870. 



Thus ended I. Brown's career of fifty-two 
years as a Teaclier. In his address to liis old. 
scholars, at Hitchin, in 1870, before referred to, 
he reviewed his life's work, concluding in these 
words — "I have great pleasure and much comfort 
in having devoted my life to this profession. I 
feel grateful that, after all my shortcomings, 
there are those who have been willing thus to 
meet and welcome me ; and your substantial 
■acknowledgement of love and afiicction will ever 
remain cordial to me. ... In the volume of 
poems by Archbishop Trench, he speaks of that 
change of feeling and purpose which takes place 
in a man after he has known the higher aspira- 
tions and blessings of the renewed life : — 

'Our life seemed the)!^ 
But as an arrow flying in the dark, 
Without an aim ; a most unwelcome gift. 
Which we might not put by. But now what God 
Intended as a blessing and a boon. 
We have received as such, and we can say, 
" A solemn yet a joyful thing is life, 
AVhich being full of duties, is for this 
Of gladness full, and full of lofty hopes." ' 

May that be the case with us all. May our life 
be full of gladness from making it a true life ; 
and may it be full of loft}^ hopes." 



It was during the period that I. Brown spent 
at the Flounders that he became a minister of 
the Gospel. He not unfrequently related the 
incidents connected with his first address in a 
meeting for worship to those to whom he thought 
it might be helpful : — At the Yorkshire Quarterly 
Meeting of Ministers and Elders, in Sixth month, 
1854, Benjamin Seebohm felt drawn to speak on 
the subject of " dumb Elders," of whom he 
believed there were some present, I. Brown felt 
that the words were addressed to himself. He 
woke very early next morning. Whilst lying 
awake, the 16th Averse of the 1st chapter of the 
II. Peter came vividly before him — " We have 
not followed cunningly-devised fables when we 
made known unto you the power and coming of 
the Lord Jesus Christ," with the belief that he 
would have to speak upon it in the next meetiog. 
The rest of what he would have to say all came 
clearly before his mind. The meeting assembled. 
After a time he rose and repeated exactly what 
he had felt given him to utter. Very shortly 
B. Seebohm, on bended knee, gave thanks to 
God. I. Brown ever afterwards recognized the 
goodness of God to him, in that all of what he 
was required to say was given to him so clearly 
beforehand. So great was his nervousness that 



the first step had seemed to him an impossibility. 
Another experience of our dear friend it 
may be helpful to record. Three months later 
he was at Hull, attending the meetings of the 
British Association. He attended the Friends' 
mid-week meeting. A verse had again been 
given him in the early morning from which to 
speak — "As the hart panteth after the water- 
brooks, so panteth my soul after Thee, God." 
Friends older than himself were beside him in 
the gallery. He hesitated to give the message, 
and continued silent, offering up a prayer that, 
if it was the will of God that he should have 
spoken, it might be clearly made known to him. 
After meeting, Leonard West took him aside, 
and told him that he had a strong impression 
that he ought to have addressed the meeting. 
AVhether he was right or not, he earnestly 
encouraged him never to disobey the Heavenly 
call. And I. Brown more than once said in later 
life that he had never since that day consciously 
been disobedient to it. 

Giving heed to his ministry, it grew in 
depth and power. One who knew him very 
intimately says : — " Throughout his life his 
attitude in relation to Divine things was 
marked by deep reverence. He was filled with 



a profound sense of the infinite majesty of Him 
who is the high and lofty One who inhabiteth 
eternity, whose Name is Holy. It was delightful 
to watch from year to year the ever-increasing 
clearness, brightness, distinctness, and depth 
of his conceptions of the unsearchable riches of 
the redemption which is in Christ Jesus. It was 
his joy to dwell upon the testimony of the 
Apostle in the Epistles to the Romans, Galatians, 
and Ephesians." In his later years he seemed 
to dwell in that atmosphere of faith and joy in 
which the Apostle Paul was living when he 
wrote the last named Epistle, and the emphasis 
and almost rapture with which he would quote 
some verses from it will never be forgotten by 
those who heard him. 

In 1879 he Avas prostrated by severe illness, 
which caused his friends almost to despair of his 
life ; but in the good providence of God he was 
restored to them and to the Church. He often 
referred to .the following favourite lines as 
expressing his. feelings at this time : — 

" Reality, reality, 
Lord Jesus, Thou hast been to me, 
When I thought the dream of life was past, 
And 'the Master's home call ' come at last ; 
When I thought I only had to wait 



A little while at the golden gate, — 

Only another day or two, 

Till thou Thyself shouldst bear me through, 

How real Thy presence was to me ! 

How precious Thy reality ! " 

The following memorandum made during 
the period of convalescence also shows the atti- 
tude of his mind : — " Considering the uncertainty 
of my life, and that after what has taken place' 
my removal may probably be sudden, I desire 
for the comfort and encouragement of my beloved 
wife and of the dear ones whom I leave behind, 
to record that in the unmerited grace of my Lord 
and Saviour, He grants me the unwavering 
assurance that I am accepted in Him, the 
Beloved, and that He grants me the sure and 
stedfast hope of being for ever with Him : not 
for any righteousness of niiue, but of His free 
mercy He saves me. 

" And my prayers are continually put up 
that all my dear ones may be partakers now of 
this free mercy, giving themselves to their 
Saviour, to be His now and His for ever — that in 
dependence on Him, their risen Lord, they may 
lead lives in accordance with His will, ever look- 
ing unto Him for all that they need ; and that in 
following His example, who went about doing 



good, they may ever be seeking opportunities of 
benefitting their fellow creatures temporally and 

I. Brown's devotion to the Greek language, 
and especially to the Greek Testament, has 
before been alluded to. He refers to it in a 
letter to a friend with whom he was correspond- 
ing on matters of Biblical exegesis, written 
within six months of his death : — Perhaps thou 
wilt think I have made a lengthy exposition. I 
am not sure that my fondness for Greek may not 
have something to do with it. I began Greek in 
1818, and taught it over forty 3^ears, and continue 
it, I think I may say, with unabated interest : 
but my interest, now that I have not to discourse 
on Homer, and Demosthenes, and Plato, has 
centred in the New Testament and Septuagint.*' 
^' How delightful it is," he would often say, " to 
be able to read the New Testament in the Greek, 
the very language in which it was written. It 
gives a life to the words, and a sympathy with 
the minds of the writers which no translation can 
fully convey." 

Our dear friend was one who by a geniality 
and love which increased with years, made many 
and firm friends. Quoting the words of another 
in a letter written only a few weeks before the 



close, he says, — "The letters of tlie aged bear 
the traces of dech'ne in all but the warmth of 
heart affection. Let me take to myself thank- 
fully these last few words, for I think I cling 
more closely, as time advances, in my love to my 
dear relatives and friends, and, applying them to 
thyself, my dear friend, I can once more warmly 
subscribe myself, thine very affectionately." 

His home life was a continued manifestation 
of the Christianity which he loved to preach. 
Eef erring to the " Testimony " issued by his 
Quarterly Meeting concerning him, an aged rela- 
tive writes : — " I want something more of his 
home life, which was so beautiful, his deep 
spirituality carried out in everything. As ho 
moved about he seemed to bring with him a sense 
of the love of God, which we know dwelt so 
constantly in his heart. It was in his own home 
that, to my mind, his character was seen in its 
brightness and mellowness, where the experience 
of years of faithful and trustful love to his God 
and Saviour shone forth, and we could all say 
that we felt the better for being in his company.'' 

He was ever ready to hear and help anyone 
who was enquiring the way to the Kingdom, and 
would listen most patiently to all such as un- 
burdened themselves to him or sought his counsel. 



His words, whether to individuals, or to large or 
small meetings, always came with weight. " I 
know of no one," writes a friend, "whose influence 
on religious thought in the Society of Friends in 
our time, has been, in my opinion, so marked as 
his." His calmness of manner, the absence of 
all excitement or hurried expression, his patience 
under the enunciation of views and sentiments 
widely divergent from his own, contributed 
largely to this. " Many years ago," he said, " I 
resolved, b}^ the help of the Holy Spirit, never to 
take offence." 

The last ten years of Isaac Brown's life were 
spent almost entirely at his peaceful home at 
Kendal. His study was the centre of much 
mental activity. Surrounded by his extensive 
library, by gifts and reminiscences of former 
pupils and of cherished friends, his desk piled 
with papers and letters from an almost world- 
wide area, his well-worn Greek Testament always 
within reach, he appeared to enjoy life and the 
quietude of rest, with little indication of declining 
intellectual powers. He kept up a systematic 
correspondence with many of those who were 
labouring in the mission field. He knew not a 
few of them personally. His knowledge of the 
Syrian Mission, by means of photographs, plans. 



maps, and letters, was extraordinarily accurate 
and minute. Nor did his interest confine itself 
to the missionary labours of Friends alone. He 
would point out on the map of Africa scores of 
places where the workers of other Societies were 
labouring, and place his finger on the exact spot 
whence martyrs had been called " home." 
Wherever faithful witnesses for Christ were 
seeking to spread the knowledge of Him, there 
our friend's interest centred, and his prayers 
ascended for them. 

In 1893 his beloved wife, Elizabeth Brown, 
passed away. In reference to her last days, he 
wrote : — "Her final illness was short, being con- 
fined to her bed three weeks. During this time 
she was graciously granted bright and rejoicing 
prospects of the glory and blessedness upon 
which she was so soon to enter." After this, he 
was lovingly cared for by one of his grand- 
daughters, who remained with him to the close 
of his life. His own physical strength appeared 
to be gradually diminishing, but he kept up his 
daily habit of early rising ; of spending some 
time before breakfast in the perusal of his Greek 
Testament ; of family reading morning and 
evening, the former always accompanied with 
vocal prayer after a period of reverent silence ; 



of daily walks when the weather allowed ; and 
of the attendance of meetings for worship, until 
the summer of 1895. On First-day morning, the 
23rd of Sixth month, dm-ing the last meeting he 
ever attended, he hecame suddenly conscious of 
a perceptible diminution of strength ; but the 
next day, feeling somewhat better, he went to 
Arnside for a short stay by the sea. In a few 
days, however, it was needful for him to return 
home, and for some weeks he was prostrated 
with illness, from which he never fully rallied. 
In the course of it, on one occasion he said to 
his daughter who was attending him : — " We have 
all of us to depend upon the redeeming love of 
God in Christ Jesus : and what more do we 
want ? I like the word redeemingy At another 
time : — " I have not been shown the issue of 
this illness, whether it is to be the last or not ; 
but I am perfectly willing to wait God's time. 
As Thou wilt ; when Thou wilt ; how Thou 
wilt." He rallied to some extent ; but in the 
Tenth month following, he was again laid low. 
The Quarterly Meeting was held at Kendal soon 
afterwards, but he was not well enough to attend 
it. To a friend who had been staying the night 
in his house he said : — "I have been thinking much 
about the meeting to-day, as I have been lying 




awake this morning, and my mind has dwelt 
!upon the words in the first chapter of the Epistle 
to the Philippians, ' And this I pray, that your 
love may abound yet more and more in knowledge 
and all discernment (he carefully quoted the 
E.V.), so that ye may approve the things that 
are excellent, that ye may be sincere and void of 
ofEence unto the day of Christ, being filled with 
the fruits of righteousness, which are through 
Jesus Christ, unto the glory and praise of God.' " 
He asked that it might be delivered as a message 
to the Quarterly Meeting. It was his last 
message to those amongst whom lie had so 
long laboured, and between whom and himself 
there were the closest bonds of brotherly affection 
in Christ. 

A few days afterwards he took a slight chill 
whilst walking in his garden. It developed into 
bronchitis, which quickly proved fatal. He was 
spared much suffering ; and, from physical weak- 
ness rather than from disease, he calmly passed 
away in the early morning of the 3rd of Eleventh 
month, 1895. 

" To have known and loved Isaac Brow^n," 
says J. B. Braithwaite, " I shall ever feel one of 
the great privileges of my life. I cherish his 
memory with a love which words fail me to 



express ; and the fervent prayer of my heart for 
myself and for all who have known him, is that 
through the obedience of the same living and 
Almighty faith, we may be graciously enabled to 
follow him as he followed Christ." 

Hannah S. B. Bunting, 32 17 8mo. 1896, 
Charlhury. Daughter of the late Henry G. and 
Lydia A. Bunting. 

She was much beloved and esteemed by her 
friends and neighbours for her Christian character. 
She was always interested in Temperance and 
Peace work, and steadily active therein. For some- 
years she was Secretary of the Charlbury branch 
of the Young Women's Christian Association, and 
took warm interest in the Loving Service League 
and other departments of its work, the various 
services being performed with unfailing punctu- 
ality. In all she kept herself so completely m 
the background that very few had any idea hovr 
much work she accomplished. She bore her long 
and very painful illness with much patience and 
resignation. Her simple and unwavering trust 
in her Saviour and Redeemer were very 
instructive. She left messages of love to be 
given to many persons, with entreaty that they 
would seek the Saviour while they had health 



■and strength, remarking that if she had not done 
"SO, she could not now, during the intense pain of 
her ihness. She said : — " Give my love to all 
my relatives, and tell them I stand in His merit, 
Christ's merit, and am not afraid to die ; though 
realizing my unfaithfulness, His forgiveness 
covers all. Her frequent message, both in and 
out of meeting, was that we must confess the 
Lord Jesus with our lips, as well as believe in 
Him with our hearts. 

Henry Burlingham, 82 24 Imo. 1896. 

Maria Burne, 75 21 7mo. 1896. 

Henley-on-Thames. Widow of Walter Burne. 
Mary Cadbury, 56 1 9mo. 1896. 


The nursing world has many beautiful 
'instances of self-devotion, some hidden, others 
more conspicuous ; but to all those who work in 
the spirit of our Divine Master we may believe 
will be accorded Christ's gracious assurance, 

Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the 
least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto 
Me." It is thought that some record of one, who 
for a long period had been engaged in this happ}^ 
work, and who was suddenly called to give up 
ther stewardship in the midst of her duties, may 



be stimulating and inspiring, especially to those 
engaged in this " blessed vocation of womanhood." 

Mary Cadbury, the daughter of Benjamin 
Head and Candia Cadbury, was born the 9th of 
Ninth month, 1839. She was of a retiring dis- 
position, with very strong will, and an innate 
power which was evident to those around her.. 
She was active and thorough in anything she 
undertook, and of a very affectionate disposition ;; 
and through life humility was a strong trait in. 
her character. 

During her early years she shared in the- 
home education carried on by her sisters, after 
which she went to Lewes school, then under the- 
care of those excellent women, Miriam, Mary 
and Josephine Dymond, who were held in much, 
esteem by their pupils. Mary Cadbury was not 
clever in the usual acceptation of the word, but 
had a naturally brisk intelligent mind, open tO' 
receive new thoughts and ideas. She made 
pleasant friendships among her schoolfellows,, 
and these have been deep and lasting. 

In 1871 she accepted an invitation to spend, 
some months in Philadelphia, with her cousins. 

On her safe arrival after the voyage, she- 
writes : — " We have been so mercifully cared, 
for and protected from day to day, and we so- 



helpless on these mighty waters." " Dost thou 
remember, mother dear, our reading that hymn 
together at Moffat, with the refrain, ' God is so 
good ' ? It has so often come to mind since, just 
the four words." . . . After saying she 
almost felt as though her mother was with her in 
bodily presence, she writes : — "I know thou art 
with me in spirit, I can feel thee very near. Pray 
for me, precious mother, that I may be kept in 
all my ways, wherever I go and whatever I say ; 
that I may not go before my Guide, who promises 
to be all to those who trust Him." 

It was during her visit to America that the 
purpose of her life took form ; and in the return 
voyage, in the spring of 1872, she made up her 
mind to devote herself to nursing. A friend of 
hers, already in the profession, tried to discourage 
her, by telling her of the difficulties of the way ; 
and this caused her to waver in her decision ; 
but her heart longing for a service of this kind 
made her persevere. Her father wondered why 
she should want to leave a happy home, where 
there was much to attract her, and abundant 
scope for usefulness : but he never pressed his 
objection, and was always deeply interested in 
her work. 



The call was clear, as was evidenced some 
years after, when someone asked her why she 
had undertaken this work. Her reply was, " For 
the Master, of course." 

It was during a visit to London that she 
made application at St. Thomas's Hospital, to be 
received as a Probationer in the Nightingale 
Home. This work she entered on the 4th of 
Seventh month, 1873. 

Her life at home had been a busy one, for 
she had taken interest in a variety of occupations, 
literary, artistic, and philanthropic. She visited 
a tract district with her mother, had an evening 
class of young women, and was also an ardent 
worker in the Temperance cause. Having several 
sisters growing up to womanhood, her personality 
did not develop rapidly ; and it was not until 
the special step of training for a nurse was taken 
that her power fully showed itself. 

At St. Thomas's Hospital the beverage pro- 
vided for the nurses was porter, and she was told 
that without such stimulant her health would 
break down. But she maintained her Temperance 
principles firmly, and was satisfied with water. 
By degrees other nurses thouglit as she did, and 
before long milk was regularly supplied for 
those who preferred it. Throughout her nursing 



career she endeavoured, in a quiet way, to 
influence her patients on the Temperance question, 
her own views on this subject being strengthened 
by seeing so many brought to the Hospital 
suffering from the effects of strong drink. 

In the Ninth month, 1873, after describing a 
variety of interesting surgical and other cases 
which had come under her care, and the deep 
interest she took in them, she writes : — "I think 
I never had a longer spell of good health, than I 
have had since I came here, and so few aches 
and pains. Work, I feel sure, suits me, and was 
meant for me to have. I had more than two 
hours of quiet for thinking of you all, and with 
that beautiful text hung on the wall, ' My God 
shall supply all your need,' I did not trouble 
about anything. Everyone is kind and pleasant 
here, and blessings surround me, and my work 
is always a pleasure." Again, Second month, 
1878, she writes : — "And now, dear mother (this 
to thyself)^ thou doesn't forget to pray for me? I 
do need so much more grace to keep my sharp 
tongue from wounding people, patients and all ; 
I get discouraged about it sometimes." 

Amid her nursing engagements she gladly 
welcomed the variety of interests which came in 
her way, and entered into them with great zest. 



The opportunity of attending a Bible class or lec- 
ture was ever a pleasure, and a day in the 
country was a special delight. She dearly loved 
the gifts of nature. On receiving a box of wild 
flowers, moss, etc., by post, she writes : — " It 
gives me such intense pleasure to receive a little 
of the beauty of life, of which we are so deficient 

During her Nightingale training she was 
sent as "Sister" of a ward, to the Highgate 
Parish Infirmary, which involved hard, wearisome 
work. After this she returned to St. Thomas's 
as " Sister" over two wards. She had also some 
training in district nursing in London, and in 
1876 was engaged as District Nurse with Miss 
Hanlen at Manchester — a work she specially 
enjoyed, and which she considered gave her a 
great deal of useful experience. From here she 
went to the Brownlow Hill Infirmary, Liverpool, 
for training in one special department of nursing. 
Whilst there, she yielded to strong pressure to be- 
come Lady Superintendent of this large Infirmary. 
Her intense love of nursing made her very reluc- 
tant to take this position, because she knew she 
could not then come into such close contact with 
the patients, by personally waiting upon them. 
She remained there as Superintendent for 



eighteen months, but felt the care and' pressure 
of the work too great for the conscientious dis- 
charge of her duty. 

In a few months time she became Matron: 
of the Sheffield Hospital and Dispensary, where 
she remained five years, and found much pleasure 
in her work, and enjoyment in the friendships 
she formed, both in the Hospital and outside of 
it ; for, being of a sociable disposition, she made 
friends wherever she went. A Sheffield friend 
writes respecting this time : — " We remember 
with grateful afEection her labours of love in our 
Hospital ; her life has been one of devotion and 
great usefulness." 

She left Sheffield rather suddenly by doctor's 
orders, as she was found to be overtaxing her 
strength. Rest, and a journey on the Continent 
helped to restore her health. Travelling was to 
her an intense pleasure, and a fellow traveller on 
one occasion speaks of her "joyous companion- 
ship," and says : " No one of the party was more 
blithe and ready for any effort or enterprise. Her 
power of endurance was the wonder of all. These 
characteristics entered into the work-a-day life 
of one, whose sojourn here has ended, but has 
produced lasting fruit, which, with the Divine 
blessing, will be to the glory of God." 



In 1890 she undertook the office of Lady 
Superintendent at the Queen's Hospital, Birming- 
ham, and continued it with unabated interest 
during the six remaining years of her life. The 
oversight and care of her nurses was a constant 
interest to her. They learnt to regard her as 
their friend, and repaid her love by genuine 
affection. Her sitting-room was the rallying 
place for them, where they could pour out their 
joys and sorrows into her sympathizing ear. The 
external Nursing Department, which she helped 
to establish, was a special interest to her, and she 
watched over these nurses with anxious and 
loving care, welcoming them on their return to 
the Hospital from their different cases. 

She enjoyed being near her home, as she 
was thus able frequently to share in social inter- 
course with her sisters, and much valued the rest 
and refreshment there, and also the fresh air and 
beauties of nature which the garden afforded, 
both for herself and her nurses. 

A sudden call to the Home above is to those 
who are ready a transition full of joy and 
blessedness ; and we believe it was thus with 
her, of whom it may truly be said that she " died 
in harness." We believe she endeavoured to 
live in the spirit of the Latin motto which 




hung on the wall of her sitting-room, " Ut 
migraturus habita'' (dwell as if about to depart), 
and that although called from the midst of life's 
duties, she was prepared for the solemn change. 

The last day that she was about (Saturday, 
29th of Eighth month), only three days before 
her death, she visited the wards of the Hospital 
and gave directions to her nurses, although 
suffering with severe pain in her head at the 
time. In the afternoon she went to bed, saying- 
she felt very ill. Unconsciousness soon super- 
vened, and continued, with but few short 
intervals, until her death, on the 1st of Ninth 
month. In one lucid moment, the day before 
she died, she was heard to say, " Very near 

She received the most tender and careful 
attention both from doctors and nurses, but 
human skill was powerless to arrest the progress 
of the disease, which was acute meningitis. 

She had just resigned her post in the Hospital, 
and was, with her sisters, looking forward with 
great pleasure to her return home for much 
needed rest ; but God ordered it otherwise and 
transferred His faithful servant from her much- 
loved work for Christ on earth to the higher 
service and rest of Heaven. 



KiCHARD Carr, 76, 6 12mo. 1895. 

Quernmore^ Lancaster. 
Arnold Cass, 2 14 lOmo. 1895. 

Castleford. Son of John A. and Harriet H. 

Hannah Casson, 87 7 7mo. 1896. 


John Cheal, 96 18 2mo. 1896. 

Loiofield^ near Craivley. 
Christine T. Cheal, 5 20 lOmo. 1895. 

Lowfield^ near Craioley. Daughter of Joseph 

and Mary E. CheaL 
Ann Clark, 83 17 5mo. 1896. 

Stohe Neicington. Widow of Frederick Clark. 
Hannah J. Clark, 47 29 6mo. 1896. 

Bradford, Wife of Henry W. Clark. 
Mary E. Clark, 37 1 lOmo. 1895. 

Exeter. Daughter of Mary and the late Arthur 


William Clemes, 72 15 7mo. 1896. 


James Cloak, 81 6 lOmo. 1896. 


John W. C. Clothier, 74 21 llmo. 1895. 

Caroline CoLCOCK, 90 28 lOmo. 1895 

Broionswood Road^ Fimhiiry Parle. 




Alice Cookk, 75 17 2mo. 1896. 


Margaret Cooke, 77 18 3mo. 1896, 


Elizabeth Corbett, 92 28 Imo. 1896 
Evesham . 

Henry Cove, 88 1 8mo. 1896 

Totteriham. An Elder. 
Elizabeth Cox, 69 1 7mo. 1896 

Beading. Widow of Henry Cox. 
Ann Craig, 70 7 12mo. 1895 

Armagh. Wife of Willi?an Craig. 
Mary Craig, 56 16 llmo, 1895, 


Charles Crawford, 22 29 4mo. 1896 
Kendal. Son of Thomas Crawford. 

Hilda M. Crosfield, 8 31 8mo. 1896 
Reigate. Daughter of Albert J. and Gulielma 

Lavinia Cross, 81 7 9mo. 1896. 

Ipsioich. Widow of Alfred Cross. 
Eli Crowther, 59 6 5mo. 1896. 


Francis N. Cumine, 65 6 4nio. 1896. 

Handsioorth^ Birmingham. 
Edith E. Dale, 22 23 3mo. 1896. 

Besshrook. Daughter of Hugh and Jane Dale. 



William Darbyshire, 62 1 6mo. 1896. 

William W. Davies, 29 10 3mo. 1896. 

Lishurn, Son of J. H. and M. Davies. 
MaryDeane, 72 31 3mo. 1896. 

Clapton. Widow of Joseph P. Deane. 
Stephen Deane, 85 31 lOmo. 1895. 


Barnard Dickenson, 86 1 Imo. 1896. 

Mary T. Dixon, 35 16 7mo. 1896. 

LowicJv Green^ near Ulverston. Wife of George 

Elizabeth Dodshon, 83 16 3mo. 1896. 
Stochton-on-Tees. An Elder. Widow of John 

John T. Dorland, 36 18 4mo. 1896. 

Willesden. A Minister. 
John T. Dorland was the son of John T. and 
Mary Ann Dorland, Elders of West Lake Monthly 
Meeting, Canada. He was born in the village of 
Wellington, Ontario, on the 8th of the Third 
month, 1860. The youngest child of a family of 
seven, some of whom were grown up at the time 
of his birth, from his infancy he awakened a 
deep interest in those about him, and at an early 
age the impression was made upon his mother's 



heart that the Lord would call this one of her 
children to engage in His service as a Minister of 
the Gospel. The loving care of three grown-up 
sisters in his father's home had much to do with 
the moulding of his character, and his childhood 
became a time of seed-sowing that in after years 
brought forth an abundant increase. 

Amidst the beautiful surroundings and quiet 
of his native village, which is pleasantly situated 
upon the shores of Lake Ontario, he grew from 
childhood to youth, having at one time a strong 
desire to follow a literary career, but subsequently 
determining to engage in the study of the law. 
Neither of these professions, however, were to be 
his life work. At a very tender age he manifested 
a deep interest in the Bible, and in the First-day 
school which he attended as a little child he was 
able, apparently with but little effort, to remember 
and repeat long passages of Scripture. But 
notwithstanding his many natural gifts, and the 
fact of his careful home training, he was soon 
made conscious of the need of having his heart 
opened to the Saviour's love. There were times 
when he felt he must surrender to these visitations 
of Divine love, and when he was under deep 
conviction ; but unwillingness to trust fully, and 
a fear that if he were converted he would have 



to go abroad as a missionary, prevented his 
finding the rest and peace that come from God 
when the life is given up in whole-hearted 
surrender to Him. So the years passed until he 
was seventeen years of age, when the death of a 
beloved friend, his brother-in-law, Sebiirn Dor- 
land, made a lasting impression upon him. This 
faithful servant of his Lord had come from the 
United States, hoping that the lake air would 
benefit his health ; and his beautiful life and 
loving ministry were often afterwards spoken of 
by John Borland as amongst the great blessings 
of his life. By the side of his open grave the 
silent prayer went up that his life might become 
such as his brother-in-law's had been — a prayer 
that has now had its gracious answer and 
remarkable fulfilment in the completed course of 
his own life, so full of the Divine blessing. 

Although these solemn calls and seasons of 
deep conviction had their marked influence, 
months passed before the light broke in and 
made John Borland a new man in Christ Jesus. 
The desire to fit himself for the profession of his 
choice, the strong claims of his natural ambition 
to excel, and the day dreams of his boyhood, all 
had to be surrendered. There was before him no 
middle course. Christ must have all. Terrible 



though the ordeal seemed to all the pride of his 
buoyant young manhood, and sore the grief he 
felt to cause disappointment to some he loved, 
who shared the desire that he might follow the 
profession of his choice (in which doubtless he 
would have gained distinction), when the power 
of Divine grace brought the issues clearly home 
to his heart, his choice was made with a childlike 
trust, a singular steadfastness of purpose, and a 
single-hearted desire to be and to do all that God 
required of him. Humbly yielding to the Divine 
will there came at once into his life much of the 
joyous and attractive power of grace, that made 
him such an honoured witness for his Lord. The 
work of testimony began at once, and at Picker- 
ing College he was the means of influencing 
many of the students to become Christians, and 
" where," writes one of the friends of his boy- 
hood, " he was admired by them for his straight- 
forward, upright Christian life." 

After leaving college John T. Dorland 
engaged in teaching for a time, but was soon 
called upon to relinquish this, as well as prepara- 
tion for his chosen profession, and to go forth in 
the service of the Gospel. Great blessing 
attended even the very first of these journeys, 
and many conversions resulted. In the first 



meiglibourhood visited, a meeting house where 
tliere had been no reguhir meeting was re-opened, 
and some time afterwards two further meetings 
were started in the same district. As the year 
1881 was drawing to a close, at the age of 
twenty-one, his gift in the ministry was acknow- 
ledged by his Monthly Meeting, and on the 18th 
-of First month, 1882, he became a recorded 

At this time an important change in his life 
took place. This was his marriage, on the 29th 
of Twelfth month, 1881, to Lavinia Hubbs, the 
daughter of William S. and Margaret Hubbs, of 
Bloomfield. Shortly before this John Borland 
had accepted a business engagement with Elias 
Eogers, a Friend of Toronto, and in the newly- 
established meeting in that city, his ministry was 
continued and much blessed towards the building 
up and strengthening of the work that had been 
begun after the visit to Canada of Walter Morris. 
After residing for about a year in Toronto, 
John T. and Lavinia Borland, with their infant 
daughter Margaret, removed to Brooklyn, U.S., 
which became their home for a couple of years. 
Here his time was fully taken up with his Gospel 
labours and visits to other Yearly Meetings, 
including his own in Canada. Visiting this in 



1883 he met Isaac Sharp, Alfred Wright and 
other friends who were present from other 
Yearly Meetings. Already his character was dis- 
tinguished by the exercise in large measure of 
the gracious influence of a controlled and spirit- 
filled life, which was the more manifest amidst 
the somewhat disturbed conditions that then 
existed in Canada : and already he had also 
begun to feel the burden of service for other 
lands. At this time an intimation came to him 
through one of the Friends attending the Yearly 
Meeting, of service that would be required of 
him over the sea. in which service he has since 
laid down his life. 

After leaving Brooklyn, where he had resided 
for a considerable time, he removed to Cleveland. 
Ohio, and found there, as elsewhere, that the 
work to which he was called fully occupied his 
time. Many were gathered to Christ through 
his faithful ministry, before the time came when 
it was made c'ear to him that he must visit 
England. Having obtained a minute for service 
here, he arrived in this country in time to attend 
in succession the Yearly Meetings of Dublin and 
London in the year 1888. 

For a couple of years John Dorland's family 
continued to reside in Wellington, Canada^ 



while he pursued his labours, visiting meetings, 
adult schools, &c., throughout this country. A 
•deepened interest in our own meetings, especially 
amongst our younger members, was the result 
of this labour that became apparent almost 
everywhere. To many also his ministry was 
a call to surrender to Christ, while to others it 
was an awakening to more consecrated service. 
In the year 1889 his wife joined him for a short 
time in these labours, and he returned with her 
on a visit to his family in Canada. 

During this visit he attended Canada Yearly 
Meeting, in which he was appointed Clerk. 
Returning to England, he continued his labours 
■under his minute from Canada Yearly Meeting, 
until early in the 3'ear 1890, when a trip he had 
long desired to make to the East was undertaken 
in company with J. Allen Baker. The journey 
extended to Egypt, Palestine, Syria, Constanti- 
nople and Athens, occupying several months, 
and proving one of the deepest interest to 
John Borland. Not long after his return to this 
country, he felt it right to remove his family 
from Canada to England, and for this purpose 
be again visited Canada at its next Yearly 
Meeting, which proved to be a larger meeting 
than had gathered for some years. It was no 



sma]] trial for John Borland to leave his aged 
parents and his home on this occasion, and it 
proved to be the last time he was to see the 
face of his father, as his decease had taken place 
before John Borland's next return to Canada. 
But his call to England being clear, it w^as ever 
an added comfort to him in the prosecution of 
his work to know how freel}^ and fully his 
parents had given him up for it, and how prayer- 
fully they follow^ed him in it. 

In a letter from Wellington, just before he 
sailed with his family, he wrote — " They want 
me to come to Cleveland, but I can see nothing' 
but England ! . . . This is home, and only 
His call could take me from it. My dear parents- 
are so sweet about our going. . . . For all 
I dread to leave, there is such a joy in the prospect 
of taking up my work in England. I trust God 
is preparing me for it in larger measure also. 
Oh for His power in saving and sanctifying." 

It was in the autumn of the year 1890 that 
John Borland brought his family to England^ 
settling at " Beanbrook," Willesden Junction^ 
London, which continued to be his permanent 
home until the time of his decease. The range 
of his work was now extended, taking in a largely 
increased number of engagements in connection 



with adult schools and mission centres, while at 
the same time continuing the specific work for 
which he had obtained his minute from Canada 
Yearly Meeting. When he had fully completed 
what he felt to be required of him under this 
minute, for a couple of years he employed part 
■of his time under a business engagement with 
Joseph Baker & Sons, of London. This work 
was not allowed to interfere with his continuing 
his gospel labours, for which he was free to 
absent himself at any time; and series of meetings, 
•conventions, addresses, etc., continued to largely 
occupy him. It was under this engagement that 
he went to Chicago in the year 1893, remaining 
for several months during the time of the Exhi- 
bition. While thus engaged in business, he there 
found acceptable service in connection with the 
Chicago Friends' Meeting, as expressed by a very 
•cordial minute of that Meeting. During this 
visit to America he also had the opportunity of 
visiting New York Yearly Meeting. 

Upon returning to England his whole time 
was again devoted to religious and philanthropic 
work. When the Friends' First-day School 
Association was re-organized, and it became 
necessary to have a Secretary able to devote con- 
siderable time to the work, attending Annual 



Meetings, Conferences, etc., John T. Borland 
accepted this post. During the last year and a 
quarter of his life he was also Editor of " One 
and All^^^ the magazine of the Association, being 
also a frequent contributor to the " Friend^^ and 
for a considerable time responsible for the issue 
of the Friends' Christian Fellowship Union 
Monthly Circular ; and being actively engaged in 
promoting the establishment of branches and 
strengthening the work of that Union, his time 
was very closely occupied, and very much of it 
necessarily spent away from home. 

In every department his work was charac- 
terized by forcible clearness, sound judgment, 
and rich spiritual power ; and his life in a 
remarkable manner exemplified the efiEective 
influence of the large-hearted Christian, faithful 
to his convictions as a thorough Friend. He 
felt that we could put no limitations upon the 
work and operation of the Holy Spirit, and 
" magnified his office," or, as expressed in the 
revised version, like Paul, he "glorified his 

About seventeen months before his death he 
took an extended journey to the East on religious 
service, in company with his wife and Lucy E. 
and Mary E. Mounsey. This trip but deepened 



his interest in Egypt, Palestine, and the countries 
he had visited hefore, and his sympathies were 
greatly increased and feelings aroused on behalf 
of the Armenians. Many interesting addresses 
were given by him on these Eastern lands. 

Few who ever come in contact with John 
Borland but were impressed with his only too 
rare combination of profound earnestness with a 
bright, joyous, and hopeful Christian character. 
The news of his death after a few days' illness, 
passed as a great shock, not only throughout this 
country, but wherever he had been known. 

John T. Borland left a widow and four 
children — two sons and two daughters — one of 
the latter being born in England. In the Eighth 
month last Lavinia H. Borland and her family 
returned to Wellington, Ontario, Canada. 

It was from attendance at the last and most 
encouraging Annual Meeting of the Friends^ 
First-day School. Association, held at Bristol, 
that John T. Borland returned to London with 
a slight cold ; and attending the Quarterly Meeting 
at Bevonsliire House, took a further chill. 
Seeming to be partially recovered he proceeded 
to Manchester to attend some meetings of the 
Friends' Christian Fellowship Union and the 
Byrom Street Adult School. Although more ill 




than he appeared, he felt that he must attend 
the first of these— the F.G.F.U. Meeting, into 
which the whole of his concern seemed to centre. 
The meeting was a time of very manifest blessing 
and outpouring of the Holy Spirit. John Borland 
rspoke with great power, faithfully delivering the 
message committed to him ; and the address 
given in that last meeting will long be remem- 
bered by many besides those who were privileged 
to be present. Within an hour after its con- 
clusion he was prostrated in much pain and 
sufiiering at the home of the late William 
Brockbank, " Brockhurst," Didsbury, near Man- 
-chester, and was never able to rise again. He 
was joined by his wife, and a day or two later 
by J. Allen Baker, from London. The most 
skilful physicians and trained nurses were in 
attendance night and day, and every possible 
means that generous hospitahty and tender 
solicitude could provide were freely employed 
to save his life, but all in vain. One week from 
the time of his last meeting, as the sun of a new 
day was breaking in through the trees in front 
of the mansion where he lay, he peacefully 
passed to his eternal rest. His wish, expressed 
some years before, that he might die in harness, 
was granted ; and in the hours of consciousness 



his expressions of peace and joy in the prospect 
of being with his Lord were very precious to 
those who heard them. No dying words were 
needed to witness the reality and blessedness of 
a spirit-filled life such as his ; and the self-denial 
and singular devotion which characterised its 
entire course will long remain a monument and 
testimony to the praise of Him who has now 
called His faithful servant from the service of 
earth to the higher service of Heaven. 

Margaret Downham, 90 4 Imo. 1896. 
Sedbergh. Wife of Samuel Downham. 

Ellen Duckett, 53 27 8mo. 1896. 

Birmingham. Wife of William Duckett. 
Elizabeth Dudley, 26 23 6mo. 1896. 

Tipton^ near Dudley. 
Elizabeth Ddrrans, 59 23 6mo. 1896. 

Brighouse. Wife of Matthias Durrans. 
William Dyne, 79 2 5mo. 1896. 


Anne M. Ellis, 70 18 5mo. 1896. 

Leicester. A Minister. Widow of John Ellis. 
Elizabeth Emmott, 71 25 2mo. 1896. 

Disley^ near Stockport. 
Hannah Emmott, 78 20 9mo. 1896. 

Oldham. Widow of Thomas Emmott. 



JosiAH Evans, 66 5 9mo. 1896. 

Cliristcliurcli. A Minister. 
Ellen Sophia Evans, 19 26 12mo. 1895. 

Chi^istclmrch. Daughter of Josiah and Mary 

H. Evans. 

Charlotte Eves, 80 14 11 mo. 1895. 

Rathgar^ Dublin. 
Elizabeth Ewins, 45 23 5mo. 1896. 


Martha B. Fardon, 67 15 9mo. 1896. 

CotJiam^ Bristol. Wife of Henry Fardon. 
Susanna Fayle, 68 11 7mo. 1896. 

Limerick. A Minister. 

Susanna Fayle was the daughter of Samuel 
and Eleanor Fayle, of Clonmel, the former an Elder, 
the latter an Overseer. She enjoyed the unspeak- 
able privilege of having parents whose example 
tended to foster her early aspirations after good, 
and who could sympathize with her as she 
developed into a religious character at a very 
early age. She had a weakness in her ankle, 
which kept her rather backward in her education, 
and somewhat more secluded than if she had 
had robust health. This was not altogether 
uncongenial to her gentle natm^e, and tended to 
promote that " meek and quiet spirit, which is in 
the sight of God of great price." She was very 



charitable towards those who differed from her, 
preferring to pray for the erring rather than 
indulge in controversy. Yet she held firmly to 
her own convictions of truth. She was lively in 
manner, and very interesting in company, and 
had a clear and upright mind — always trying to 
do the will of God ; but she retained withal the 
innocent playfulness of a child, which, however, 
often concealed deep exercise of spirit. 

In 1864, her brother's wife, when at the point 
of death, requested her to take the place of 
mother to her two infant sons. She at once 
sadly, but cheerfully, undertook the charge, and 
was enabled to fulfil it faithfully, to the satis- 
faction of their father. In 1865, feeling the want 
of a sisterly companion, her cousin, Emma Fayle, 
became an inmate of the pretty " Merlin" home. 
S. Fayle's mother died in 1870, but her father 
lived till 1882, to the advanced age of eighty- 
seven. The following year she left Clonmel, and 
went with her cousin to reside in Limerick. 

She had for many years felt a conviction 
that she would be called to speak as a minister ; 
and her voice was first heard in public at the 
summer Quarterly Meeting at Limerick, in 1856, 
when she quoted Joel ii. 28-29, " It shall come to 
pass in the last days that I will pour out My 



Spirit on all flesli/' etc. With much originality 
of mind she was no one's copy. It is believed 
that she often experienced the "renewing of the 
Holy Ghost " ; for, from various quarters, her 
Irish friends bear testimony to the acceptableness 
of her ministry, that it was very sweet and 
refreshing, and sometimes of an uncommon 
character, weighty and attended w^ith spiritual 
power ; and this in meetings for discipline, as 
well as in those for worship ; especial reference 
being made to a most touching and beautiful 
address to children in 1895. 

S. Fayle was subject to severe colds, when 
she sometimes lost the power of speaking above 
a whisper for weeks or months together, and her 
regular attendance of meetings was often inter- 
rupted. She was, however, able to pay a short 
visit to Friends in Philadelphia in 1888, and 
again in the spring of the present year. 

In a birthday letter to a friend who enjoyed 
her unbroken friendship for hfty years, she thus 
alludes to this expected journey : — 21st of Eleventh 
month, 1895 — " Our birthdays come once in the 
year, and bring us nearer the goal and end of our 
lives. Thou and I know much of the loving- 
kindness and tender mercies of our loving 
Heavenly Father, and His providential fatherly 



care over us all those years. Have not the sins 
and errors of the past been washed awaj^ in the 
precious blood of the Lamb of God, and all scores 
against us wiped out for His dear sake ? What 
love ! What gratitude should be ours ! May our 
daily lives prove our love to Him who has done 
so much for us. I have had a sharp proving of 
my love, but thank God, He has made me a 
conqueror through Jesus Christ my Saviour. 
Later on thou wilt probably hear of it." 

She was thus enabled to resign herself to her 
Master's call, whether with or without a com- 
panion, and her faith was confirmed by the fol- 
lowing coincidence : — She wrote to her friends 
Samuel and Sarah Emlen. of Germantown, Phila- 
delphia, concerning the prospect, and her letter 
crossed one from S. Emlen, asking her if she 
felt the time had come to supplement her visit of 
eight years ago, which she appeared to have left 
unfinished, and warmly inviting her to their 
house. Obtaining certificates of unity for service 
in Philadelphia and New York, she set out alone, 
having often said, " I can see my way out, but I 
can see nothing about my coming home ; perhaps 
I will never return." 

A friend who resides in Limerick remarks : — 
Particularly of late there was a clearness and 



depth in her ministry that rendered it very 
acceptable to her friends ; and to crown all, words 
cannot set forth the blessed sense of the life- 
giving presence of the Master Himself during 
the last meeting she was with us here, before she 
set out for America, when not only was prayer 
offered on her behalf, but she was also powerfully 
engaged in ministry, pleading particularly with 
the young to surrender themselves to Him who 
is waiting to be gracious, and finally engaging 
in solemn prayer on behalf of all. I believe 
many of us felt that day that it might be the 

On arriving at her destination on the 1st of 
Fourth month, she seemed very well, and after 
a day's rest, made a number of visits with 
Sarah Emlen to invalid Friends in Germantown, 
She also attended the meeting there, and two or 
three in the city. On the First-day morning of 
the Yearly Meeting week she was at Orange 
Street Meeting, and spoke on the Crucifixion, as 
one present remarked, in a way she had hardly 
ever heard before ; and the query arose on this 
occasion, " Is she preaching her funeral sermon ? " 
She attended the Select Yearly Meeting, and went 
back and forth to all the sittings of the Yearly 
Meeting. She was not frequently engaged in 



the ministry during- Yearly Meeting week, but 
was weighty and excellent in word and doctrine, 
and was welcomed by friends generally. The 
following week she attended the Monthly 
Meeting at Twelfth Street, when she laid before 
Friends her concern to visit the families of 
Friends in the cit}^ After receiving their entire 
approval, arrangements were mavle, and she left 
Germantown to be in the city, as more convenient. 
The visits were most cordially received, and 
many were greatly comforted by those inter- 
views. She attended Philadelphia Quarterly 
Meeting and spoke there, though in a weak 
condition. The subject matter of her discourse 
was very remarkable. Tt seemed to embrace 
the affairs of the nation, or as if she were 
speaking to the people at large on the state of 
the country, and advocating the peaceable 
nature of the Redeemer's Kingdom. It appeared 
to be her desire to do what she could in visiting 
families in Philadelphia, before going to New 
York ; and then to return to the former city. 
But when asked if she would again take up the 
work of visiting families in the autumn, she 
replied that she could not see so far. She was 
very desirous to attend a meeting or two in New 
York, and there is good reason to believe that she 



was feeling drawn to some service among the 
authorities of that city. But her readiness to do 
her Master's will was accepted, and she was 
released from any further strain on her now fail- 
ing strength. On the 6th of Fifth month she 
returned to her kind friends at Germantown, very 
weary, and from that time she mostly kept her 
room, though occasionally she had a short drive 
out. She continued bright and cheerful, 
endeavouring to relieve her friends from anxiety 
about her. No pains were spared in nursing her, 
and as her condition continued serious, her de- 
voted cousin Emma Fayle was telegraphed for, 
and quickly obeying the call, arrived on the 6th 
of Sixth month. The weather being hot the 
doctor advised her to try the mountain air of 
Pocono, and himself escorted her thither with her 
cousin on the 3rd of Seventh month. But on the 
11th she suddenly passed away, quietly and 
calmly entering into rest, with no sign of suffer- 
ing, but with her face bright and beautiful. 

Her mind had been calm and peaceful, and 
no one had thought her end was so near. She 
had repeatedly enjoined her cousin to let her be 
buried wherever she might die, and the interment 
therefore took place in the Monroe Cemetery, in 
the township of Paradise Park, Monroe County, 



Her cousin and companion writes respecting 
her : — " I felt she lived ver}^ close to God. She 
seemed to me to be ripening for the Better Land. 
She never seemed to have the least fear of death, 
all was so calm and peaceful. I used so to enjoy 
our quiet Sunday evenings together. She would 
often ask me to repeat 'Abide with me,' and 
' Thy will be done,' and used often to repeat 
' The hour of my departure's come.' We were 
very happy together." 

The Monthly Meeting of Philadelphia for 
the Western District have addressed the following 
letter to the Monthly Meeting of Limerick, and 
the Munster Quarterly Meeting : — 

" Dear Friends, — Our beloved friend, Susanna 
Fayle, who has for some time sojourned in this 
land with certificates from you for religious 
service, departed this life at Mt. Pocono, the 
11th of Seventh month last. We desire to bear 
testimony to the humble walk of our dear friend. 
Her communications in our meetings were with 
power, tending to raise the life, and awaken the 
witness for truth : whilst in the family visits to 
our members which she was able to make, and 
for which she was liberated by our Monthly 
Meeting, she was favoured to speak to the con- 
ditions of the visited in weighty and appropriate 



words. When the affecting circumstances of 
her death in a strange land, and away from many 
of her friends, were brought before our last 
Monthly Meeting, a feeling of solemnity spread 
over us, and many testimonies were given of her 
devotion to apprehended duty. The example of 
her dedicated life and faithfulness unto death, 
will, we hope, be an incentive to others to follow 
their Lord whithersoever He leads ; so that it 
may be said of her, she ' being dead yet speaketh.' 
We sympathize with you in the loss of this 
devoted servant of the Lord, and reverently 
believe that, as a shock of corn, fully ripe, she 
was gathered into the heavenly garner." 

Jemima S. Fennell, 59 24 5mo. 1896. 

Dublin. Widow of James Fennell. 
John G. Fennell, 81 9 lino. 1896. 


Susan A. Fennell, 27 2 6mo. 1896. 

Tottenham. Daughter of the late James and 

Jemima S. Fennell, of Bessbrook. 
Miriam Fox, 64 17 Imo. 1896. 

Brighton. Wife of Octavius A. Fox. 
Samuel H. Fox, 35 4 4nio. 1896. 

Flushing^ near Falmouth. Son of Joseph J. 

and Sarah A. Fox. 



Edith R. Fowler, 36 6 12mo. 1895, 

Whiteliall Court ^ London. Daughter of the 
late John and Lucy Elizabeth Fowler. 

Elizabeth A. Gates, 63 18 lOmo. 1895. 

Margaret Gibbins, 50 9 6mo. 1896. 

Kttlngton^ near Stratford-on-Avon. 
Catherine Giles, 78 12 12mo. 1895. 

Bath. Widow of Robert Moline Giles. 
Edgar Louis Gilkes, 33 20 Imo. 1896, 

Coolgardie^ West Australia. Son of the late 

Edgar Gilkes, of Grange-over-Sands, formerly 

of Middlesborough. 
Ann R. Gillett, 78 3 6mo. 1896.. 

Banlmry, Widow of Jonathan Gillett. 
Charles Gillett, 65 13 12mo. 1895. 

Banbury. A Minister. 

Charles Gillett was the son of Joseph and 
Martha Gillett, of Banbury, and was born the 
18th of First month, 1830. He was one of the 
elder children of a large family of brothers and 
sisters, who,, with himself , had the privilege of 
a loving, guarded home. 

When six years of age he was sent with 
his older brother, Joseph, to a boarding-school 
at Thornbmy, near Bristol, and as travelling 
was then difficult, he only returned home for 




the summer vacations. He was of a very gentle, 
kind disposition, tenderly attached to his mother, 
so that the long absences from home were a real 
trial to him. 

As a boy he took much interest in Natural 
History and Geology, and in this way his spare 
minutes were never idle. He was also through 
life an early riser, which in some degree explains 
the amount of varied work he was able to 
accomplish, though his healtli was never robust. 

When very young his heart was yielded to 
his Saviour, and it gradually became the great 
object of his life to be a diligent servant of his 
Lord and Master, who, he felt, had done so 
much for him. 

One special feature in his character was the 
absence of thought of self ; it never seemed to 
cross his mind what others might tliink of him. 
Those who watched his humble walk with God 
could not hut feel that the words of the Apostle 
Paul were exemplified in his life : " Love 
suffereth long and is kind ; love eovieth not ; 
love vaiintetli not itself, is not pufted up, doth 
not beliavti itself unseendy, seeketh not its own, 
is not provoked, taketli not account of evil." 

In the vear 18()0 Chai-les Gillett was 
appointed to tiie office of Elder in his Meeting. 



He felt the responsibility of this position, and 
sought earnestly for Divine help to fulfil the 
duties involved in it. 

His marriage, towards the end of the same 
year, to Gertude M. Tregelles, was the source 
of much true happiness to him in after life. 

Charles Gillett gradually became much 
interested in the cause of Temperance, and 
worked hard in it ; and later on the Home 
and Foreign Mission work claimed his warm 

For some years he had felt it right occa- 
sionally to take vocal part in our Meetings for 
Worship, and in the year 1877 he was recorded 
as a Minister in our Society. Though his words 
were few, they were often felt to be helpful to 
the Meeting. 

Towards the end of his life he passed 
through many bereavements. His beloved 
mother was removed by death in 1882, after an 
illness lasting several years ; and shortly before 
his own decease two much loved younger brothers 
and a fondly loved sister were taken to their 
heavenly home. 

About eighteen months before his death he 
had a serious illness, during which he was 
tenderly nursed by his daughter Agnes. He 



was favoured to recover in great measure, and 
;again worked even beyond his strength at the 
many things that claimed his attention, being 
most unwihing to spare himself in any way. 

On the 13th of Twelfth month, on the 
anniversary of his wedding day thirty-five years 
before, after a very short illness, during which 
lie was unable to say much, he was taken, we 
reverently believe, to be for ever with the Lord. 

Agnes M. Gillett, 27 28 8mo. 1896. 

Evesham. Daughter of Charles and Gertrude 
M. Gillett. 

The truest memoir of any life cannot be 
framed in words. It will ever consist in the liv- 
ing impress left behind, on hearts that have 
been touched by gracious words and purity of 

Agnes Marion Gillett desired, even in her 
childhood, to lead a holy and noble life, and to 
yield herself wholly to God, to receive from Him 
bitter and sweet alike. 

In the year 1888 she went for a short time 
to the Children's Hospital in London, and from 
there to the Temperance Hospital, Hampstead 
Koad, with the view of going out to India as a 
missionary. She was much valued in the Hos- 



pita! as a nurse ; and soon after she left, the- 
" Sister " of lier ward writes : — " No one could be' 
beside her without admiring her character, and' 
feeling better for having come in contact with 
her. Her quiet gentle influence will be much 
missed in the Hospital. For myself I never had 
a nurse I had such perfect confidence in. I 
knew, whether present or absent, the work would 
go on just the same, and everything be done 
nicely and so kindly for the patients." 

Throughout her whole life the same might 
be said of her ; "whatsoever her hands found to 
do she did it v/itli her might," feeling all the 
time that she was only an instrument in God's 
hands, and that the excellency of the power was 
of Him. 

Her great sorrow in 1891, through the death 
of Alfred William Brown, of Evesham, to whom 
she was engaged for marriage, led her to go and 
live at Evesham, to try in some measure to fill 
the gap which he had left. She helped in the 
Adult School and Mission Meeting, and also in 
carrying on his Sunday afternoon Bible Class of 
men and women, who write in a letter of sym- 
pathy after her death : — " She has been an angel 
of light and love, going in and out amongst us,, 
and we are heartfeltly thankful for her life. She 



has taught us by example how to live, to love, to 
serve ; and she has not lived in vain." 

Those who knew her best can bear witness 
to the grace that was given to her, her patience 
in affliction, and her resignation to the will of 

She had not been at all strong during the 
last eighteen months of her life ; and while she 
was staying with her mother at Banbury, a 
serious illness came on which terminated her life 
in a few days. Although her weakness and pain 
prevented her from expressing her feelings at 
the last, yet she much enjoyed listening to 
hymns, especially the one Avhich begins " Jesus 
lover of my soul," repeated to her very slowly 
and clearly. When the first verse was finished, 
which ends " Oh receive my soul at last," she 
repeated the w^ords " at last." It was evident to 
those who fondly cared for her that " she knew 
in whom she had believed, and was persuaded 
that He was able to keep that which she had 
committed unto Him against that day." Like a 
wave dying upon the shore, her spirit departed 
from a life of usefulness, to be "for ever with 
the Lord." 

Jonathan A. Gillett, 41 19 12mo. 1895. 



LoRRis GoLDSBURY, 2 5 lOmo. 1895. 

JIaxiveltown, Neio Zealand, Son of Alfred and 

Margaret Goldsbury. 
Theodore Grace, 57 7 6mo. 1896. 

Redland^ Bristol. 
Lucy Greenwood, 70 31 lOmo. 1895. 


Amelia Greer, 86 31 7mo. 1896. 


Ann Groves, 77 26 2mo. 1896. 

Rastrich. Wife of Joseph Groves. 
Sarah Hadfield, 71 23 Imo. 1896. 

TVhalejj Bridge, near Stockport. Widow of 

George Hadfield. 
Mary A. Halhead, 42 11 3mo. 1896. 

Kendal. Widow of William B. Halhead. 
Elizabeth Hall, 67 5 llmo. 1895. 

PecJcham. Widow of John Hall. 
Thomas J. M. Hall, 15 15 9mo. 1894. 

Bailiehoro, Co. Cavan. Son of Robert Hall, 

formerly of Cork. 
Esther Hanna, 80 19 3mo. 1896. 

Br oolxfield, Ireland. Widow of Robert Hanna. 
John Harris, 79 13 9mo. 1896. 

Kingston-on-Thames. An Elder. 
Margaret B. Harris, 35 19 Imo. 1896. 

Plymouth. Wife of George C. Harris. 



Geoffrey Harrison, 34 20 5mo. 1896. 

Poole. Late of Worcester. 
Joseph F. Harvey, 33 28 6mo. 1896. 

Finglas^ DuUm. Son of Wheddon F. Harvey. 
Anne W. Haughton, 77 24 7mo. 1896. 

Clonmel. Widow of Thomas Haughton. 
Jacob Haydock, 45 27 7mo. 1896. 


Hannah Hewitson, 79 28 8mo. 1896. 

Sarah Ann Hicks, 68 24 6mo. 1896. 


Marie Hilton, 75 10 4mo. 1896. 

South Hachney. Wife of John Hilton. 

Marie Hilton, who died at her residence 
at South Hackney on the 10th of Fourth 
month, 1896, was an Overseer of KatclifE and 
Barking Monthly Meeting, and was widely 
known as the founder of the Stepney Creche. 
It may be said of her that her life of seventy- 
five years was very full, for at no period of it, 
after maturity, was she unconnected with some 
form of philanthropic work. Her labours in the 
cause of humanity lasted, indeed, up to the very 
end. She was not born in the Society, nor had she 
any relations among Friends ; but in the early 
part of her life she appears to have been imbued 



with the sph'it of their profession. She was left 
an orphan at an early age, and her grandmother, 
with whom her childhood was passed, was a 
rather rigid member of the Chm*ch of England. 
One day she chanced to enter a Nonconformist 
Chapel in the village, and was much struck with 
the extempore prayers, which were in the manner 
of her own, and seemed to be in harmony with 
her religious feelings. She was strictly forbidden 
to repeat her visit ; but she felt constrained to 
do so, and continued to attend the chapel alone, 
her friends going to Church. Attendance at a 
dissenting place of worship was, in those days, only 
possible at the expense of some social obloquy ; 
but Marie Hilton continued staunch, and while 
still a young woman, joined a Congregational 
Church, and became an active Sunday School 
teacher. She remained a member of that denomi- 
nation during her residence in London, East 
Ketford, and Brighton. While at Brighton, 
though actively participating in the affairs of 
a large chapel, and remaining on terms 
of close friendship with the minister and his 
family, she became uneasy in her mind regarding 
what is called " the ordinance of the Lord's 
Supper," and for some j^ears she felt obliged to 
absent herself from that ceremony. Ultimately 



Chicago Exhibition, 1893, and therein she 
describes the inception of the work, which was 
destined to do so much for the preservation of 
infant life. " In the scenes of misery and want 
that I visited ahnost daily," she writes, " the 
saddest feature of all was the neglected condition 
of the children. The mothers, though not 
deficient in maternal instinct, were yet lament- 
ably ignorant of every detail appertaining to 
the proper care of infants. Cleanliness was 
unknown amongst them ; and with regard to 
feeding, the children of the tenderest years 
generally shared the meal with the parents, 
even to the extent of beer and shell-fish. When, 
as often happened, the mother had an opportunity 
of obtaining work, she was unable to leave home, 
not having the means of providing for the 
safety of her children during her absence. But 
necessity often compelled them to go to work ; 
it was the only alternative to starvation. Then 
in what jeopardy were the infants placed ! — often 
left to the inefficient care of a child but a few 
years their senior ; subject to every kind of 
accident, even to the hazard of the open street. 
I found widows, and women upon whom a 
greater trouble than widowhood had fallen — the 
curse of a drunken husband — utterly unable to 



earn a shilling for their families ; for how could 
they be nurse and bread-winner at the same 
time ? The question of the care of infants 
seemed to me the most important, and also the 
most difficult problem which presented itself for 
solution at this time. I began to have some 
general ideas of a day-nursery, where children 
could be cared for during the mother's absence ; 
but it was only after much study and labour 
that I developed the Creche system, as it may 
now be seen in working order in Stepney 

"In the summer of the year 1870, I visited 
the Creche at Brussels. I found that there were 
from 500 to 600 children in the Creche, varying 
in age from one month to fifteen years, many 
having passed through from the cradle to the 
first class ; others, I found with satisfaction, had 
gone out into the world, and were filling honour- 
able positions. I also understood the significance 
of the word Creche^ or manger, and that it was 
adopted by the originators in remembrance of 
the Babe of Bethlehem having lain in a manger, 
and that they were endeavouring, by their loving 
care of the little ones, to re-echo the blessed 
song of ' Peace on earth, and good-will to men.' " 

On the model of tlie Belgian Creche the 




institution in Stepney Causeway was founded. 
On the strength of a few promises of support, a 
house was taken and furnished. The risk was 
great, but the need of the poor children was 
pressing ; and in a few months sufficient help 
came to justify the venture. It was not until 
the 8th of Second month, 1871, that the building 
was ready for inspection, the formal opening 
taking place on the 22nd of the same month. 
" We did not," Marie Hilton continues, "admit 
more than ten infants and fifteen young children ; 
but the state in which some of the children were 
brought was indescribable. Their condition 
morally was also truly deplorable. One lovely 
little child of four years old tore his hair and 
flesh, bit and kicked every one who approached 
him, and finished by pouring forth such fearful 
oaths that we were obliged to send for his 
mother to remove him. Several dear friends 
came to assist in reducing our little ones to order, 
my dear daughter and I spending the whole of 
our time there. By the second week we had 
peace, and bright, joyous faces. The mothers 
seemed to realize that our thoughts towards them 
were thoughts of love ; and although the washing 
question was a difficulty, it was soon overcome, 
and they were quite proud of telling us how good 



the dear children were at home." From this 
small beginning in 1871 the Creche grew to be 
a large institution. When Marie Hilton entered 
into rest, after twenty-five years of the hardest 
work, the institution in Stepney Causeway had 
accommodation for 120 children — eighty in the 
Creche and forty in the Home. The Creche 
system, too, had spread and developed in a 
remarkable degree, and may now be ranked 
among the recognized institutions of England. 
Visitors from all parts of the country have come 
to RatclifE for information and advice before 
starting similar institutions in their own districts. 
The system has also been introduced into the 
United States and some of the Colonies. 

In spite of some slight opposition at the 
commencement, the Creche grew rapidly in 
public favour. As soon as the first report was 
issued, Her Royal Highness, Princess Christian 
gave her patronage, and ever since has given 
evidence of her warm interest in the success of 
the institution. The- late Earl of Shaftesbury 
took a deep interest in the Creche, and the name 
" Mrs. Hilton's Creche " was first adopted at his 

One of Marie Plil ton's most marked charac- 
teristics was her broad unsectarianism. In her 



dealings with the poor she recognised neither 
creed nor nationality ; and there is no doubt that 
to her enlightened interpretation of Christian 
duty no small measure of her success among the 
poor was due. " To all who purpose starting a 
Creche," she wrote, I would give a word of 
warning. They will have but little chance of 
success, and small hope of winning the confidence 
of the mothers, unless it be conducted on the 
broadest principles, and kept entirely free from 
any suspicion of sectarianism. Surely it is too 
early to begin the battle of creeds over the 

cradle To this worl^, then, I would 

commend all my sisters of every creed and 
nation, in the hope that their labours may be 
blessed, alike to them and the objects of their 
love. The world moves slowly on ; vice, cruelt}^, 
and poverty seem to be ever with us ; but in the 
darkest times in all ages, woman's love for the 
helpless and the suffering has shone out grandly 
as an alleviation ; and to that love, on behalf of 
myriads of neglected infants, I would appeal." 

In the course of tin:ie auxiliary institutions 
were added to the Creche, as the exigencies of 
the work required. An infirmary was added soon 
after the commencement, and through its opera- 
tion many suffering children, who would inevit- 



ably have died if left in the unhealthy surround- 
ings of their own homes, have, when tended by 
trained nurses and highly qualified doctors, been 
restored to health and vigour. Another very 
valuable branch was the country home at Feltham, 
Middlesex. Here those children, too weak con- 
stitutionally to thrive in the vitiated atmosphere 
of Stepney, have grown up strong and healthy, 
and have gone out into the world as domestic 
servants, or filled other positions of usefulness. 
A "Temporary Home" in Stepney Causeway was 
the last addition to the institutions under Marie 
Hilton's direction. The object of this admirable 
and much-needed Home was to provide a refuge 
for children whose mothers are temporarily ren- 
dered incapable of directing their household 

Of all these institutions, with their multifarious 
needs, Marie Hilton was the sole manager. Her 
intellect was so vigorous, and her powers of 
administration so extraordinary, that she was 
able to maintain the institutions in perfect 
efficienc}^, and to obtain the necessary funds 
unaided by a committee, whilst directing, at the 
same time, the affairs of her own home. 

But at times the strain was very severe, and 
the constant anxiety at length told seriously 



dealings with the poor she recognised neither 
creed nor nationality : and there is no doubt that 
to her enlightened interpretation of Christian 
duty no small measure of her success among the 
poor was due. " To all who purpose starting a 
Creche," she wrote, " I would give a word of 
warning. They will have but little chance of 
success, and small hope of winning the confidence 
of the mothers, unless it be conducted on the 
broadest principles, and kept entirely free from 
any suspicion of sectarianism. Surely it is too 
early to begin the battle of creeds over the 

cradle To this work, then, I would 

commend all my sisters of every creed and 
nation, in the hope that their labours may be 
blessed, alike to them and the objects of their 
love. The world moves slowly on ; vice, cruelty, 
and poverty seem to be ever with us ; but in the 
darkest times in all ages, woman's love for the 
helpless and the suffering has shone out grandly 
as an alleviation ; and to that love, on behalf of 
myriads of neglected infants, I would appeal." 

In the course of time auxiHary institutions 
were added to the Creche, as the exigencies of 
the work required. An infirmary was added soon 
after the commencement, and through its opera- 
tion many suffering children, who would inevit- 


ably have died if left in the unhealthy surround- 
ings of their own homes, have, when tended by 
trained nurses and highly qualified doctors, been 
restored to health and vigour. Another very 
valuable branch was the country home at Feltham, 
Middlesex. Here tliose children, too weak con- 
stitutionally to thrive in the vitiated atmosphere 
of Stepney, have grown up strong and healthy, 
and have gone out into the world as domestic 
servants, or filled other positions of usefulness. 
A "Temporary Home" in Stepney Causeway was 
the last addition to the institutions under Marie 
Hilton's direction. The object of this admirable 
and much-needed Home was to provide a refuge 
for children whose mothers are temporarily ren- 
dered incapable of directing their household 

Of all these institutions, with their multifarious 
needs, Marie Hilton was the sole manager. Her 
intellect was so vigorous, and her powers of 
administration so extraordinary, that she was 
able to maintain the institutions in perfect 
efficienc}^, and to obtain the necessary funds 
unaided by a committee, whilst directing, at the 
same time, the afPairs of her own home. 

But at times the strain was very severe, and 
the constant anxiety at length told seriously 



upon her health. During the last few years of 
her life she suffered from an acute form of gout. 
Yet she bore her sufferings with uncomplaining 
fortitude, and her cheerfulness continued un- 
dimmed until the close of her life. For three 
months prior to her decease she was confined to 
her bed, suffering greatly ; but up to within a 
few days of the end her power of will enabled 
her to direct the affairs of the institution. When 
apparently recovering, and able to remove into 
another room, the change came w^ith great 
suddenness, and in three days she passed peace- 
fully away on the 10th of Fourth month, 1896. 

Her trust in her Saviour was unswerving and 
strong. She ever yearned intensely that others 
might know the blessedness she knew in her 
faith, while she was always modest and reverent * 
in speaking of her own experiences. 

She often repeated the following lines of 
Whittier : 

" I walk with bare hushed feet the ground 
Ye tread witli boldness shod. 
I dare not fix witli mete and bound 
The love and power of God." 

Charles Hooper, 75 14 2mo. 1896. 

Southampton. An Elder. 



■Joshua Hopkins, 63 16 3mo. 1896. 


William Hopper, 84 5 lOmo. 1896. 


Archibald C. Howes, 14mos. 27 llmo. 1895. 

Nondch. Son of John J. and Lucy A. Howes. 
■George E. Hudson, 28 14 3mo. 1896. 

Old] i am. 

Lucy Hutchinson, 15 27 9mo. 1896. 

Bradford. Daughter of Edmund and Annie 

M. Hutchinson. 
Oulielma I'Anson, 86 15 Imo. 1896. 

Darlington. Widow of Charles I'Anson. 
Mary H. Impey, 72 15 9mo. 1895. 

Street. Widow of Robert Impey. 
Joseph Isherwood, 50 8 lOmo. 1895. 


•Olive S. Jacob, 2 23 9mo. 1896. 

Dalhey^ Dublin. Daughter of Charles E. and 

Susan R. Jacob. 
William Johnson, 53 22 llmo. 1895. 

Arivonimamo^ Madagascar. 
-Lucy Johnson, 50 22 llmo. 1895. 

Arivonimamo. Wife of William Johnson. 
Lucy E. Johnson, 5 22 llmo. 1895. 

Arivoniinanio. Daughter of William and Lucy 
• Johnson. 



A shock of grief and distress, and a wave of 
deepest sympathy with bereaved relatives came 
upon Friends everywhere, when, late in the 
autumn of 1895, intelligence reached England 
that W. and L. Johnson and their dear little 
" Blossom " had been cruelly murdered by native 
Malagasy. It seemed almost beyond belief that 
they, of all the missionary band, should be the 
victims of malevolence and cruelty ; for their 
place in the love and esteem of large numbers of 
the people had been amongst the very highest. 
But the first sentiment of dismay and grief was 
before long overshadowed by an upspringing of 
faith, that, as in the olden days so now again, in 
the over-ruling goodness of God, the death of 
His martyrs shall prove instrumental in evolving 
a truer and deeper life in His Church. 

William Johnson, son of John and Margaret 
Johnson, the fifth child in their family of ten, 
was born at Chelmsford in 1842. A bright- 
spirited, merry child, he was always a help and 
comfort to his mother, and grew up such a 
dependable boy, that she felt entire confidence 
in him. In 1853 he went to Ack worth School, 
where these early characteristics and his pleasant 
manners made his school life happy. He was 
not over studious, nor very ready to share 


in rougher games, and his favourite leisure 
occupations were drawing and designing, and 
making cardboard models ; whilst out of doors 
his great delight was in Nature's beauties and 
wonders. He loved his little plot of garden ; and 
when his class was out in the fields and lanes, 
lie would be seen intent on bank and hedgerow, 
gathering the wild flowers and grasses, of which 
he would make choice bouquets, and carry them 
home, not to spoil their beauty in a plant press, 
but to feast his gaze on their delicate loveliness. 
Schoolboy days over, he remained at Ackworth 
for some years as a teacher, his genial temper 
and lively humour makinghin:ia general favourite. 
A part of this time he spent at the Flounders 
Institute, where he became deeply attached to 
its Principal, Isaac Brown, whose influence over 
him had probably much to do with the moulding 
of his character, and the directing of his after 

It was during his Ackworth days that the 
belief took hold of William Johnson's mind that 
the time would come when he would be called to 
enter into misson work in some foreign land. 
Of this he spoke to but one intimate friend ; and 
very few who were familiar with him as being 
€0 full of fun and humour, and so given to 



merriment and joking, could have supposed that 
beneath all this there lived a thought so serious 
and so earnest. For of all things, he feared any 
attempt to appear better than he really was ; and^ 
carrying this feeling too far, he sometimes adopted 
among strangers a manner which did his inmost 
heart injustice, and caused him to be misunder- 
stood. Especially was this the case when, after 
leaving Ackworth, he entered into business at 
Gloucester. Here, however, some of his friends 
soon discovered what he really was — " at heart 
a genuine Christian." Before long, observing 
how uncared-for some of the watermen and corn 
porters in the city were, with the co-operation of 
his friend, F. Sessions, he commenced an Adult 
School for them. The response to their first 
invitation was disheartening — not a man came ; 
but at the end of the first winter's work they 
had fifty names on their books. The work 
prospered, and week-night classes were added to 
it, and then a penny bank open to all comers. 
The publicans took alarm, and one of them 
actually set up an opposition class in his own 
club-room. Needless, perhaps, to say, it was 
but short-lived. After about eighteen months at 
Gloucester, W. Johnson entered an architect's 
office in Leeds, where he acquired knowledge 



and experience which were of the greatest value 
when in after j^ears he became architect and 
builder of houses and schools in Madagascar. At 
Leeds he entered with energy and zeal into the 
Adult School work, and, in company with his 
friend, Wilh'am Linney, commenced what after- 
wards grew to be the Carlton Hill School. It 
was a rough and hard beginning ; the uncultured 
youths would not be controlled. Though dis- 
heartened, and thinking it was a failure, and that 
ihe was doing no good, he refused to give in, and 
by degrees began to acquire an influence with 
those rough lads, the full value of which was 
discovered in them only in their after lives ; and 
when the time came for him to leave them, they 
felt it hard to let him go. In addition to this 
work on First-days, W. Johnson devoted much 
of his spare time during the week to night schools 
and the Band of Hope, of which the latter owed 
much of its prosperity to his help and leadership. 

The dependableness of character which his 
mother had so valued when he was but a little 
I)oy, as he grew older became an earnest faith- 
fulness to duty, whether the duty were pleasant 
or uninviting. His kindly sympathy and sunshiny 
way of seeing a bright side of things, if there 
was one, made his character so lovable, that 



those who knew him most intimately loved hind- 
most heartily. 

The mental and spiritual training and 
experience gained during the years spent at. 
Ackworth, Gloucester, and Leeds were of great 
value to W. Johnson in fitting him for the work 
that lay before him. There is isometimes very 
practical wisdom in the old maxim, " He that 
believeth, maketh not haste." There were times, 
when the thought that years were passing by,, 
whilst his early drawing towards the mission 
field abroad remained unsatisfied, was rather 
depressing to him, as the suggestion intruded 
itself that it had been all a mistake. But the 
way began to open ; and when his friend and 
associate, Henry E. Clark, Avith his wife, offered 
themselves to go out to Madagascar in the spring 
of 1871, it became very clear to him that his path 
of duty lay in going with them ; and the 
acceptance of his proposal to do so by the 
Friends' Foreign Mission Association made him 
glad at heart. A bright crown was set upon this 
gladness when he soon afterwards became 
engaged for marriage with Lucy Sewell, not- 
withstanding a strong desire, if not an endeavour 
to prevent it, on the part of some of the circle of 
friends among wliom she lived, in the feeling 



tliat they could so ill spare her from her English 

Lucy Johnson was the daughter of Joseph S. 
and Mary Ann Sewell, and was born at Ackworth, 
where her father was a master in the School, in 
the autumn of 1845. The home of her infancy 
and early childhood was in the cottage at the 
bottom of the "great garden" of the School. 
When she was about seven years old the family 
removed to Rawdon, and during the years spent 
there her bright, sunny, child-spirit made her a 
favourite with everyone. In 1858 she went to 
the Mount School at York, where she spent some 
happy years, brightened by youthful friendships, 
some of which brought joy and blessing to her 
after life. 

As a school-girl she was conspicuous for 
happy joyousness and wholehearted devotion to 
what took her fancy or won her interest, and 
she developed a great love for poetry and 
literature. She had a lively faculty for seeing 
special beauty and value in passages of both 
prose and poetry which she met with ; and, being 
gifted with a retentive memory, would often 
entertain and delight her schoolfellows during 
the wakeful hour after retiring to rest, by the 
recitation of poem after poem, and passage after 




passage, which had so pleased her that she had 
learnt them by heart ; until it sometimes seemed 
as though there was no limit to her store of these 

But a cloud of sorrow darkened the sunshine 
of her life, when she was suddenly summoned 
home to see her mother, as it proved, for the last 
time. Mary Ann Sewell, who had long been an 
invalid, had become rapidly worse ; and soon 
after Lucy had left her to return to School, she 
passed peacefully away. 

In the winter of 1860 Lucy left school, 
and took her place as mother-sister at home, 
which was now at Scarborough, and after a short 
interval at Pickering, was in 1862 removed to 
Hitchin, where it continued until she left 

This home life, in which she was much 
helped by a faithful friend and henceforward 
valued member of the family, was not free 
from care and anxiety, depressing in their 
tendency. Happily, the cheery buoyancy of 
childhood continued unabated, and carried Lucy 
over trials which might otherwise have weighed 
her down. The frequent illness of a younger 
and invalid sister saddened and distressed her ; 
but with each recovery there came the rebound of 



cheer and gladness, and an overflowing of spirit 
in fun and merriment, that drew those around 
into its brightening influence. 

But, along with this brightness of spirit, and 
by it concealed from others, she experienced 
many deep heart-questionings and perplexities. 
She longed to hnon' that she was a forgiven 
child of her Father in Heaven, and yearned for 
conscious communion with a present Saviour. 
She had, when at school, had many talks with 
one of her companions about these hidden heart 
yearnings ; but not till two years after her school 
days were over, and then, when Christmas was 
drawing near, but without seeming to bring any 
Christmas joy to her spirit, as with a flash of 
revealing light from Heaven, there came to her 
heart the glad angel's message — to you is born a 
Saviour — a Saviour for herself ! Sinful though 
she was, and because she was so, and needed 
Him to save her from her sinful self. She took 
the glad tidings to her heart in the power of a 
heaven-born faith, and that Christmas was a very 
bright one for her. 

The death of her younger sister " Katie," 
when seven years old, was a great grief to her. 
She had been almost a mother to the happy, 
merry little one for nearly five years, and her 



removal brought a blank and sadness into her 
own life, which, for a time, she found it hard to 
rise above. It is not surprising that she pos- 
sessed an almost fascinating power with children. 
They seemed, as by instinct, to feel sure that she 
loved them ; and her stories and songs and 
rhymes gave them unwearying delight. When, 
in the summer of 1865, she undertook the 
teaching of two little girls as companions of her 
younger sister Alice, her bright, loving ways 
with them won their ardent attachment, and 
when they were left motherless, her quiet, tender 
sympathy comforted them exceedingly. Her 
own freshness of pleasure in wild nature made 
her a delightful companion to the little ones, as 
they rambled about in the woods and country 

Though she felt deeply the responsibilities 
attending such undertakings, Lucy Sewell took 
chargeof a classof girlsin the Hitchin Friends' Sun- 
day School, as well as holding once a week a similar 
class in a village not far away. Her spirit, not- 
withstanding its bright cheerfulness, was always 
self -distrustful, and led her at times to dwell 
more on thoughts of imperfection and failure 
in this work than on success. Yet it needs 
scarcely to be said that her earnest sympathy and 



praj^erful devotedness were greatly blessed to at 
least some of tliose whom she thus befriended, 
who now love to testify their deep indebtedness 
to her. She made herself one of them ; and as she 
spoke earnestly to them of the love of God in 
Jesus Christ, longing desires were raised in some 
of their hearts to have her Saviour as their own. 

In 1867 her father went out on his long 
mission to Madagascar. To give him up for this 
cost Lucy much, it would be hard to tell how 
much. But help came to her from that dear 
Saviour upon whom, as she had already learnt, it 
was never in vain to lean, and she bore up 
bravely, and trustfully took hold of her new 
responsibilities. Yet as year followed year a 
sense of depressing loneliness increased upon her, 
which perhaps only added brightness to the 
prospect that opened before her, when, in 1871, 
she became engaged for marriage with William 

In that year Joseph S. Sewell came on a visit 
to England ; and the time rapidly drew near when 
Lucy must retur-n with him to Madagascar. It 
was a sore uprooting for her loving spirit ; and 
the severing of the ties of early friendship and 
of home, and the laying aside of her work of 
Christian love, with a yearning regret that she had 



not been able to do it better, brought her into a 
great strif t. But the needed grace and comfort 
from the best of Comforters came to her, and 
bore her up for the parting when it came. 

W. Johnson with his companions sailed for 
Madagascar in Fourth month, 1871. They were 
about eighty days at sea ; and during this long 
passage he became much interested in the ship's 
crew. He held a class for the sailors every after- 
noon in the forecastle, and so won their attach- 
ment and confidence that they opened their 
hearts freely to him. 

On reaching Antananarivo he found that on 
J. S. SevvelFs departure it had been arranged that 
he should take charge of the large High School 
for Boys belonging to the Friends' Mission. This 
continued to be his chief sphere of service for 
ten years, and he devoted himself to it with 
earnestness and diligence. He strove to acquire 
an intimate acquaintance with the boys individu- 
ally, and especially sought to advance their 
spiritual welfare, giving to the Scripture teaching 
the leading place among the lessons. He also 
had special classes for the teachers. His work 
at this time was rendered the more arduous by 
the scarcity of lesson books, very few of which 
were in existence in those early days. 



Joseph S. Sevvell returned to Madagascar in 
1872, taking with him his daughter Lucy and 
one of her sisters. W. Johnson met them at 
Tamatave, and the marriage was accompHshed 
there. Lucy Johnson always insisted that she 
was not a missionary, but was only a missionary's 
wife. If this was ever true, it was only during 
the earlier years of her married life, for she 
eventually became a very earnest worker among 
the Malagasy women, and it was given to few 
ladies in the mission field to win the love and 
devotion of the natives, both women and men, as 
she did. Few were so apt as she in nursing the 
sick and comforting the sorrowful. " She was 
just like a mother to me," was often said by 
natives as well as by younger missionaries. She 
was greatly helped in thus winning the love and 
esteem of those whom she in any way befriended, 
by the singular brightness and glow of her 
character, always attended as this was by an 
undercurrent of tender sympathy and love — the 
outcome of her own great sensitiveness of feeling, 
and by the wonderful unselfishness which was 
one of her most marked characteristics. 

In 1879, seven years after her arrival in the 
island, L. Johnson's health gave way, and it 
became needful for her to return to England, 



which she did, taking her three children with 
her. Her husband felt it his duty to remain at 
his post, desiring to accomplish ten years of 
service before taking furlough. He accompanied 
them to Mojanga (the Majunga of English news- 
papers), a port on the north-west coast, whence 
they sailed for home. After their departure he 
was taken very ill, and for a time his recovery 
seemed very doubtful ; but after a trying journey 
back to the Capital, his health was restored. 

During the two years that followed, Isaac 
Sharp, in the course of his long missionary 
journey, visited Madagascar, and made his home 
at the house of W. Johnson, who accompanied 
him on some of his journeys to the mission 

Before returning to England in 1881 for a 
well-earned time of rest, W. Johnson was able 
to superintend and see completed extensive 
alterations and enlargement of Ambohijatovo, 
the large building in which the High School for 
boys was carried on. Herbert F. Standing had 
now arrived in the island, and the head master- 
ship of the School was transferred to him, and 
was not afterwards resumed by W. Johnson. 

The first French war broke out in Madagascar 
in 1881, and delayed the return of the missionaries 


thither until nearly the end of 1884, when, 
although the war was not over, on the strongly 
expressed feeling of W. Johnson that it was their 
duty to go, they were permitted to do so. Some 
difficulty was met with at Tamatave, in obtaining 
the permission of the French General for the 
journey to the Capital, Avhich, however, disap- 
peared as soon as he heard that the travellers 
were Friends. 

During this second term of service in 
Madagascar, 1884-1892, AV. Johnson's work was 
of a slightly different character. In 1887, on 
the return of one of his companions to England, 
he took over the care of the town church of 
Ambohitantely. This had its native pastor, but 
there was still much for the missionary to do in 
helping the people. W. Johnson's sympathies 
were much drawn out to the many young people 
attending the church, and he did a A^ery good 
work among them, and was diligent in visiting 
them at their homes. 

During his first period of residence, W. John- 
son had hadj among his other duties, the care of 
a small country district within a day's journey of 
the Capital. But on this, his second sojourn, he 
accepted the charge of a nmcli larger district, the 
furthest extent of which was nearly three days' 



journey distant. Into this district he made 
frequent and prolonged visits to its churches and 
schools. Twice a year also he had meetings of 
an unique character. The pastors, evangelists, 
teachers, and preachers in the district assembled 
at a central village, remaining for a week. 
During this time they had lessons on the higher 
branches of study, and especially from the Holy 
Scriptures. These were times of deep interest, 
and of much spiritual refreshment to all ; but 
from them our friend often returned very weary 
to his home at the Capital. 

In the latter part of this time was com- 
menced the work, for which W. Johnson will be 
long remembered, the building of the Mission 
Hospital at Antananarivo. It would be difficult 
to exaggerate the anxiety which this work 
cost him. The site was outside the city, and it 
was necessary to go there several times a week. 
Everything except the actual building had to be 
done by himself. It is almost impossible in 
Madagascar to prepare correct estimates ; and it 
was one of his trials, and a very keen one, to 
find that his original estimates were very largely 
exceeded. When he found that the work could 
not be completed at the time he had hoped for, he 
and his wife cheerfully remained another year 



at their post of duty, rather than return leaving 
the work unfinished. 

During this time Lucy Johnson had a very 
busy and active life. After their return to Mada- 
gascar, a little girl was born to them, but they 
had very soon, with great grief, to give her up 
again, as she died when only about a year old. 

The harmony which prevails between the 
missionaries of the Society of Friends and those 
of the London Missionary Society in Madagascar 
is well known. In the latter part of 1888, Mrs. 
Haile, the wife of a missionary of this Society, 
was very ill at the Capital, and was devotedly 
nursed by Luc}^ Johnson. She did not recover, 
and before her death she asked L. Johnson to 
be a mother to her two little children. This 
trust she accepted ; and no mother could have 
more tenderly cared for her own children than 
did she care for this motherless girl and boy, 
until, on returning to England in 1892, she was 
able to hand them over to their relations. 

In the year 1890, another little girl, their 
dear little " Blossom," was given to our friends, 
who lived to return with them to Madagascar in 
1894, and was killed with her parents in the 
dreadful tragedy that took place at Arivonimamo 
on the 22nd of Eleventh Month, 1895. 



Our friends returned home, as we have said, 
on their second two-years' furlough in 1892, and 
made their home at Sheffield, where their presence 
and Christian service and fellowship were greatly 
valued by Friends. The frequent lectures which 
William Johnson gave in various places excited 
much interest, especially as he was able to tell 
of a real deepening of the work of Divine grace 
in the lives of many of the Christian converts in 

In his farewell address to Friends in London 
in 1894, he said : — 

" The Lord has been greatly blessing us in 
our work in Madagascar during the last few 
years. We have seen both old and young 
brought to the Lord, confessing their sins, and 
determining to live a life of usefulness to His 
praise in the future. Alas ! when the corn began 
to spring up in the field, then also appeared the 
tares. We feel it to be imperative that we go 
back to our post in Madagascar, to sustain the 
young Christians, who are very weak, and guide 
the Churches in the fight which is now beginning, 
not exactly between the powers of darkness and 
light, but between the so-called Christians of the 
old time and the more enlightened of the new. 
A foundation has been laid there, and we must 



build on it. We have a band of true-hearted 
Christian people in the Capital, where our work 
has been mainly done, and where we have a 
number of institutions which we must maintain 
in efficiency if we are to carry the work into the 
more heathen parts of the island. For instance, 
we have there the mother Church, to which the 
country congregations look for guidance. We 
have our High Schools for youths and maidens, 
in which between 500 and 600 natives are being 
carefully trained, and from which we obtain our 
supply of teachers for the elementary schools in 
the country. The higher the standard we can 
maintain in our High Schools in the Capital, the 
higher will be the standard in the country, where 
we have 14,000 children under instruction. We 
must also maintain our printing office and our 
medical work at the new hospital, and the 
Medical Academy in connection therewith. Last 
year I appealed to Friends in regard to districts 
south-west of the Capital, where we have several 
stations, and I am glad to say I have a com- 
panion going . back with me to reinforce us, so 
that we may have a spare missionary to put down 
in the West District. We want missionaries 
amongst the country people, who can thus have 
before them the great object-lesson which a 




missionary household teaches them day by day. 
Nor must we forget that when the needs of our 
district have been arranged for, we have to the 
west of us the great heathen tribe of the 
Sakalava, who have never heard the Gospel 
except spasmodically." 

Eeaching their mission field again in 1894, 
they took up their residence at Arivonimamo, a 
small town of some importance, thirty miles 
south-west of the Capital, where a teacher had 
been placed by J. S. Sewell in 1869, immediately 
after the burning of the idols by order of the 

The second French war was just beginning, 
and large numbers of people were being ordered 
oflE to it 'to oppose the onward march of the 
invaders. This very much interfered with his 
work, and was very discouraging to W. John- 
son. His wife, however, devoted herself to her 
work, especially in the small cottage hospital, 
where she was indefatigable in the care of the 
sick. She also had a large class for the slave 
women of the district. 

On the 10th of Fifth month, she wrote to 
a friend in England : — " It is a very great help 
and strength to us to know that our friends at 
home are thinking of and praying for us. We 



feel this especially just now, in looking- forward 
to certain difficulties and hindrances, and possible 
dangers, in the coming months. Our earnest 
desire is for grace and wisdom with which to 
meet difficulties and perplexities, and for courage 
and quiet faith in danger. We long to be helpful 
to our native friends in their time of trouble, and 
not to set til em the example of unworthy panic. 
But, personally, I am so afraid of doing jnst 
that. My one comfort is that grace is given 
with the need — not always, I think, beforehand." 

As is well known, none of our Friends, 
either at the Capital or in the country, met with 
any harm during the taking of Antananarivo, 
and all danger was thought to be over. But 
when, immediately after this, the French removed 
Rainihuarivony, Prime Minister, from power, and 
when with his fall the power and authority 
of all the officials in the large towns of Imerina 
came to an end, the natives said, "The law is 
dead, we can do as we like," and many of them 
gave themselves up to rum drinking and fighting. 

A few weeks after this there arose a dispute 
on money matters between two men living in 
towns some two or three hours distant from 
Arivonimamo. The quarrel soon assumed large 
proportions, and several fights took place between 



the contending parties ; but when they became 
aware that the French were coming down to 
punish them, their dispute was made up, and 
they united to oppose them. They also agreed 
to renounce Christianity, and to return to their 
idol worship. And now, becoming suspicious 
that the missionaries at Arivonimamo were com- 
municating with the French about them, they 
determined in the first place to kill them, and 
a body of some thousands set out with that 
purpose. W. Johnson and his wife had been 
warned of their danger, but seemed unwilling 
to believe that a people amongst whom they had 
found so much evidence of love and esteem 
could prove false to them, and decided that it 
was their duty to remain at their post, though 
they urged all native officers of the Mission to 
make good their escape. Unhappily their trust 
in the people was misplaced, and the marauding 
band came upon them early in the morning 
of the 22nd of Eleventh month, when father, 
mother, and little Blossom were cruelly murdered. 
A few friendly people gave the bodies slight 
burial in the evening, and they were afterwards, 
in the Fourth month, removed to the Missionary 
Burial Ground at the Capital for interment. At 
this funeral large numbers of people of all ranks 



were present, including members of the Queen's 
household, and French and English Government 
officers, as well as many members of the 
Christian Missions, and nearly a thousand of 
the Malagasy Christians, who had known the 
departed most intimately. 

In the course of an address on the occasion, 
Henry E. Clark said : — "Nothing has been more 
wonderful to me in connection with this terrible 
event, than the unshaken faith of our friends at 
home, including the near relations of W. and L. 
Johnson, that this ' event ' is destined to be pro- 
ductive of much blessing to us in Madagascar^ 
and to the work in which many of us are 
engaged. . . . Some may say — some have 
said — that ' the Johnsons ought to have left ; 
their lives were thrown away.' Not so say those 
who know them best. My friendship with Wil- 
liam Johnson extended for twenty-seven long 
years ; and this I can say about him : — I never 
knew anyone who so faithfully, shall 1 say per- 
sistently, continued in the path which he felt it 
to be his dut}' to walk in. From the time we 
were united in mission work in the slums of 
Leeds, all the time we have been members of the 
same mission here in Madagascar, up to the very 
day of his death, the same feature of his char- 



acter was ever prominent — once having made ujj 
his mind, when once he knew his duty on any 
particular point, there was no power that I know 
of could ever turn him from that. What he felt 
during those awful moments when, in the 
presence of his wife and child, he was done to 
death, with indignities that shall he left 
unspoken, I know not. But this I think I do 
know, with a certainty of sure conviction — not 
for a moment did he regret the decision he had 
come to, to remain at his post. He knew whom 
he had helieved ; and if it was God's will that 
he should die that death, then his was the willing 
sacrifice. . . . 

A well-known writer has said : — " The 
influence which our dead have over us is, at 
times, very great. We think we have lost them 
when we see their faces no more, nor hear their 
voices, nor receive the accustomed kindnesses 
at their hands. . . The memory of heautiful 
lives is a henediction, softened and made more 
rich and impressive by the sorrow which their 
departure caused. . . . " Do not these words 
call up before us the image of our late dear friend 
Mrs. Johnson, and all that was beautiful, and 
pure, and gentle and true in her ? And does not 
this image remain to us now as a fragrant legacy 



to be cherished ? There are those in this present 
company who will never forget her, and all she 
was to them. And as she ministered to them in 
the body, so they feel that she is yet ministering 
to them, perhaps even more effectively than ever 
before ; for — 

' They never qaite leave us, our friends who 
have passed 
Through the shadows of death to the sun- 
light above ; 
A thousand sweet memories are holding 
them fast 

To the places they blessed with their 
presence and love.' " 

In the report of the Medical Mission for 
1895, Dr. Wilson says :— 

" During the year it has fallen to my lot to 
pay several visits, six in all, to our country 
stations. All but one of these were on account 
of illness. Having lived in the country myself, 
one is perhaps the better able to appreciate the 
anxiety and strain that is felt when a member of 
the mission family falls ill, and everyone so far 
away. The isolation at such times tries the 
strongest nerve. And now, on looking back at 
our terrible loss, I sljall always lovingly remember 
the four visits paid to our dear friends at Arivon- 
imamo. Three times I went to see little 



Blossom Johnson, who had typhoid fever. This 
was no doubt contracted from patients in the 
adjoining cottage hospitals, whom Mrs. Johnson 
nursed and tended in a most loving and assiduous 
manner. It was not very long after the child 
completely recovered that the anxiety and care 
began to tell upon the mother, especially as she 
never for one moment spared herself, so long as 
there were any sick to be cared for. Hova or 
slave, intelligent or ignorant, clean or dirty, it 
mattered little ; all were alike lovingly ministered 
to. Under God's blessing, many this day owe 
their lives to those who afterwards were cruelly 
shamed and murdered, not by brigands of some 
distant tribe, but by the very people in whose 
midst they lived. It was no wonder Mrs. 
Johnson broke down : indeed, to all who saw 
her, the wonder w^as how she did so much, for 
she never seemed to take rest for herself. One 
day I remember I had to expostulate with her, 
and half threatened to order her away for a 
complete change. ' Oh, no,' she said, ' I must 
do what I can, as it won't now be for long.' 
Little then did we think how true that would 
prove to be. Yes, she worked truly as if every 
day were to be her last, and her Lord found her 


Joseph Joyce, 69 11 8mo. 1896. 

Tunhridge Wells, 
Mary King, 72 12 llmo. 1895. 

Ashton-o}i- Mersey . 
Philip Kipling, 76 30 4mo. 1896. 


Elizabeth H. Laud, 71 12 8mo. 1896. 

Edghaston. Wife of Philemon Laud. 
Robert S. Lees, 70 27 7mo. 1896. 


Sarah A. Lingford, 61 17 6mo. 1896. 

Shildon. An Elder. Wife of Samuel Lingford. 
Phoebe Little, 70 29 lOmo. 1895. 

Ai'dwlck, Manchester. Widow of James Little. 
Anna Lowe, 75 2 6mo. 1896. 


Anne Lynch, 77 22 9mo. 1896. 

Rathgar^ Duhlin. Widow of James Lynch. 
Richard T. J. Manasseh, 11 16 2mo. 1896. 

Finshury Park. Son of Beshara J. and Rosa 

Manasseh, of Brumana. 
Mary Martindale, 67 3 Imo. 1896. 

Scarborough. Wife of Edward Martindale. 
Samuel Metford, 86 31 5mo. 1896. 

Although this dear friend was known to a 
large circle of acquaintances, it may be interest- 



ing and instructive to put on record a few 
particulars respecting his somewhat remarkable 

One distinguishing trait in his character was 
the large amount of natural amiability, which led 
him, wherever he went and with whomsoever he 
associated, to try to do and to sa}" that which 
might be pleasing. A friend who had known 
him from childhood says : — " From his earliest 
years Samuel was known as one of a very kindly 
loving spirit, always ready to do a good service 
to his friends." This disposition made him a 
universal favourite with children and many older 

He was born at Glastonbury in 1810, and 
was educated partly at home under a private 
tutor, and partly in higher class boarding schools 
of the day. During his boyhood his father 
removed to Bath, and Samuel lived with him till 
about his twentieth year. In 1834 he went to 
America, the voyage to New York lasting more 
than six weeks. There he worked on the farm of 
his friend James Fuller, and afterwards with a 
cousin in Canada, helping him to clear his land. 
After this he was two years in New York with a 
wholesale china importer. 

Having developed considerable skill in cut- 



ting out silhouette profiles, he travelled in com- 
pany with an artist all over the United States, 
occupying several years in this way. On return- 
ing to England he travelled about as a "Profilist" 
mainly among Friends, until photography quite 
superseded his art ; and he then settled down 
with his parents in their neat country residence 
near Congresbury. 

His aged father was, during liis latter years, 
afflicted witli blindness. Samuel's devotedness 
and attention to him under this deprivation were 
beautiful to see. They had to walk some distance 
to the meeting at Claverham. Some now living 
well remember the regular appearance of the pair 
on their way along the lanes, across the fields, 
and over stiles ; Samuel in the prime of life, 
doing all that son could possibly do in ministering 
to his aged and feeble parent. 

The habits thus acquired of careful attention 
to the wants of others continued with him 
through life. He never seemed happier than 
when he had found some suffering or bedridden 
ones on whom he could attend with all the care 
of a gentle nurse, reading to and conversing with 
them, and in many ways ministering to their 
necessities. He liked to seek out lonely and 
friendless lads away from home ; and it was a 



real delight to him when he could show them 
some kindness, such as taking them for a holiday 
excursion or a country ramble. He was ever a 
lover of nature and of the animal creation, whether 
bird or quadruped, and was a valued member of 
the Anti-Vivisection Society. Although he had 
been exposed to influences in his earlier years that 
did not favour it, he became an earnest total 
abstainer, and remained true and firm in this 
respect through all the exposure that attended 
his somewhat unsettled and roving life in 
America. He was also deeply interested in the 
cause of Peace. 

Beneath the benevolent exterior of his 
character, there was deep and real religious con- 
viction of his own sinfulness, and the inestimable 
preciousness of forgiving, reconciling love, mani- 
fested in Christ Jesus. Some of his seasons of 
Divine visitation were known to few besides 
himself. He often avowed himself as at heart a 
" true, old-fashioned Friend." He appreciated 
what was good wherever he met with it, but had 
more sympathy with the hidden and genuine 
work of the Holy Spirit than with sensational 
forms of religion. Sometimes his natural 
tendency to become all things to all men, led 
him into acts and conversation which he after- 



wards regretted. Yet it was his earnest desire to 
live the life of a consistent follower of the 
Saviour whom he loved, and in whom he felt was 
his only hope of salvation. 

In 1865, after tlie death of his father, and 
the break up of his rural home, he re-visited 
America, and assisted his widowed sister-in-law, 
Phoebe Metford, in her fruit farm for about two 
years. On returning to England, he moved about 
among his friends, chiefly in Somersetshire. He 
preferred to choose a lodging where he could be 
of some use, such as by assisting on the farm, 
or where his residence might prove a real help 
to the household in v/hich his simple wants were 
provided for. 

In the hot summer weather of 1896, he re- 
sumed his frequent excursions on the Bristol 
Channel steamers, on which captains and passen- 
gers were generally glad to have his lively 
company ; but it become evident that his powers 
were not what they had been. After an un- 
usually long day's journey, he complained of 
great weariness and loss of appetite, and sought 
the quiet of his comfortable lodging. Feebleness 
increased upon him day by day, and he became 
less able to bear reading or conversation. 

Often as he had soothed the dying hours of 




others, there was in his own mind a strong 
shrinking from death, whenever he suffered 
from any aihnent. It was striking to some who 
visited him in his last illness to see how this 
feeling was modified, if not quite removed, and 
that he could speak of his approaching end with 
calmness and peace. At times, when his loving 
heart turned to absent dear ones, and he thought 
of never seeing them again, it seemed almost 
more than he could bear ; but gradually, as his 
weakness increased, he was soothed by the hope 
of meeting them again in their eternal home ; 
and he was able to say that he was " quite happy 
and ready to go." A sort of dreamy unconscious- 
ness stole over him, in which he quietly passed 
away, spared the suffering he had so much 

It was just the kind of end which his friends 
could have desired for him, in which '-peace 
passing all understanding " — peace with God 
through our Lord Jesus Christ, might be felt to 
be his eternal heritage. 

His remains were interred in the Cemetery, 
Weston-super-Mare, on the 3rd of Sixth Month, 

Tabitha MiLLiGAN, 52 6 llmo. 1895. 

Kendal. Wife of Joseph Milligan. 



Rose E. Milward, 45 5 12mo. 1895. 


Susan M. MiNCHiN, 87 19 4mo. 1896. 

Hook Norton^ near Sihford, Wife of William 

James Morley, 86 7 Imo. 1896. 


John G. Moses, 63 21 llmo. 1895. 

Darlhigton. An Elder. 
John Mounsey, 72 16 Imo. 1896. 

" Rohorougli^^ Bournemouth. 
Robert Murphy, 69 9 9mo. 1896. 

South Hachiey. 
Edward G. Neave, 25 27 2mo. 1896. 

Mere^ Wiltshire. Son of Edward and Mary 

Ann Neave, of Leiston. 
John Nellist, 68 13 Imo. 1896. 


Ann Nelson, 81 13 llmo. 1895. 

Preston Patrick. Widow of William Nelson. 
Jemima Nevitt, 89 21 8mo. 1896. 

Leeds. Wife of Robert M. Nevitt. 
Abigail Newton, 81 14 6mo. 1896. 

Liverpool, Widow of Henry Newton. 
Samuel Newton, 47 7 9mo. 1896. 

Plimsoll Road^ Finshury Park. 

Samuel Newton, son of Thomas and Mary 



Newton, of Todmorden, was born on the 11th 
of Firtit month, 1848. Even as a child his tastes 
took an intellectual turn, and being naturally of 
a thuid disposition, and having- lost his father 
in very early life, he became devotedly attached 
to his widowed mother, whose gentle influence 
doubtless had a marked effiect on his character 
in after life, and whose memory he ever cherished 
with childlike reverence and love. 

After being five years at Penketh School, 
he entered the Borough Engineers' Office at 
Blackburn, where he remained for some years ; 
and the testimony of his colleagues, with their 
valuable presentation to him on leaving, bore 
evidence of the love and esteem in which he was 
held, notwithstanding his faithful controversy 
against much with which he could not unite, 
and which he did not shrink from lovingly con- 
demning. He greatly longed to be faithful in 
upholding the principles which he professed, and 
was williog often to appear foolish and singular 
rather than make compromise with the world. 

After leaving Blackburn, he was engaged 
for some time, together with an old schoolfellow, 
in business at Todmorden. The little meeting 
there consisted of some five or six elderly Friends, 
and its silence was rarely broken by any vocal 



ministr3\ Yet those present were taught the 
reality of spiritual worship, the great Head of 
the Church feeding them with the bread He 
Himself broke amongst them, comforting and 
strengthening them in this true communion with 
Him. It was in this environment, amidst few 
social advantages, that Samuel Newton evinced 
that love of plainness of speech and almost 
puritanical strictness of life and conversation 
which obtained amongst the few Friends by 
whom he was surrounded, and which, more or 
less until the end of his life, he felt it required 
of him to maintain. 

After the death of his mother and the 
discontinuance of the business at Todmorden, he 
resumed his earlier occupation, which necessitated 
his removal to Liverpool, and later to Great 
Ayton. Here he entered with much ardour into 
the varied interests of his new surroundings, and 
greatly enjoyed the fellowship of an enlarged 
circle of Friends. His voice was frequently 
heard in their meetings for worship, the love of 
God, and the necessity of access through the 
blood of Jesus, being very often the subject of 
his remarks. His loyalty to Christ as his Saviour 
and Redeemer, and his jealousy for his Lord, 
sometimes tested to the utmost his charity for 



those whose eyes were not opened to see Him in 
all His fulness as the one offering, perfecting 
forever those who are sanctified. 

His desire to act under the constraining and 
restraining love of Christ was a marked feature 
in his religious life ; and when on one occasion 
of his attending a meeting in Bilsdale, which 
had been held monthly on First-days for many 
years, but where those who gathered had not 
quite sufiicient faith to meet unless some Friend 
went to sit down with them, he felt it required 
of him to remain through the meeting in silence, 
believing that that was the lesson his Lord 
had specially for them that day. At the close, 
one of those present expressed his astonish- 
ment that he should come seventeen miles just 
to sit still and say nothing. S. Newton reminded 
him that it is unto CJirist that the gathering of 
the people is to be, and not unto any one man 
as minister. How much easier would it have 
seemed, in " compliance with surrounding con- 
ditions,'' to have spoken a few of his ow)i words, 
rather than to sit still at the Master's bidding. 

Those wdio heard his last address in the 
evening meeting at Great Ayton, about six weeks 
before his death, little thought, as he repeated 
so feelingly Paul's concluding words to the 



Corinthian Cliurcb — " Finally, brethren, fare- 
well. Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one 
mind, live in peace ; and the God of love and 
peace shall be with you. Farewell ! " — that it 
was indeed his own last message to them. 

He was an ardent lover and keen observer 
of Nature, often seeming overpowered with the 
sense of God's goodness in the mere contempla- 
tion of a flower in its minutest details ; and the 
long moorland walks he loved to take alone, 
revelling in the surrounding grandeur of hill-top 
or passing cloud, were frequently the inspiration 
of his addresses in the meeting at Ayton. To 
him the lines of Willis seem peculiarly applicable — ■ 

" 'Tis to have 
Attentive and believing faculties ; 
To go abroad rejoicing in the joy 
Of beautiful and well-created things ; 

To thrill with the rich melody of birds, 
Living their life of music. 

To see a beauty in the stirring leaf. 
And find calm thoughts beneath the whispering 
tree : 

To see, and hear, and breathe the evidence 
'0£ God's deep wisdom in the natural world ! " 

Hence it seemed fitting that his last resting 
place should be beside that of his mother^ in the 



beautiful little burial ground at Ayton, rather 
than amid the roar of city life, where truly he 
felt himself a stranger. 

He had a real appreciation of all that was 
beautiful in poetry and art, and will long speak 
to many through the messages he endeavoured 
to weave into his gifts of penmanship, which 
were always elevating in sentiment, and often, 
beautiful in execution and design. 

His simple faith in God as his Father, and 
his childlikeness in committing his way unto 
Him, were very striking. A young Friend who 
had been in the habit of going to him in any 
difficulty, speaks of how he would listen so full 
of sympathy to the end, and then, taking hold of 
his hand, would draw him down on his knees, 
saying, Let us tell Jesus." " The lesson he has- 
taught me," says the young Friend, "is to go 
now straight to head quarters with my troubles." 
The penny edition of Anna Shipton's " Tell 
Jesus " was his favourite book for distribution, 
the simplicity of its teaching having been so 
blessed in his own spiritual life. 

The desire of his heart was to speak and. 
work more directly for his Lord ; and yet the 
strong feeling that it would not be right for him 
to enter upon such service for payment, liinderedl 



his offering himself for mission work amongst 
Friends. This brought him much discourage- 
ment, during which he would sometimes repeat 
those lines of Bryant's addressed " To a Water- 
fowl," which he took as peculiarly his own — 

" There is a Power Whose care 
Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, 
The desert and illimitable air — 
Lone wandering, but not lost. 

^' He who from zone to zone 
Guides thro' the trackless sky thy certain 

In the long way that I must tread alone, 
Will guide my steps aright." 

And when some time afterwards he was 
appointed book-keeper and accountant for the 
Mildmay Mission to the Jews, he joyfully under- 
took this so-called secular employment, which 
gave him opportunities for taking part in the 
more congenial work of the mission meetings, in 
which he took an ever increasing interest to the 
time of his death, often expressing the privilege 
he felt it was to be associated in so good a 

John Wilkinson, in writing of him, says : — 
He was indeed a true follower of the Lord 
Jesus Christ. His humility, self-forgetfulness, 



courtesy, and conscientious attention to duty 
were prominent features in bis character ; his 
Christian life will long be fragrant to all who 
knew him." 

In 1892 he was united in marriage to Mary 
Margaret Thistlethwaite, of Great Ay ton. The 
comfortable home near Finsbury Park, the fondly 
attached wife, the little baby girl, all united to 
make these few short years the crowning happi- 
ness of his life ; and yet He who ordered all his 
steps had a higher service awaiting him, and 
suddenly called him to his heavenly home after 
six days' illness from pneumonia and bronchitis. 
He was spared much of the distressing nature of 
the symptoms usually attending the complaint,, 
and never spoke during his illness of not recover- 
ing ; being, when conscious, always most trustful! 
and peaceful. " I have perfect peace," were- 
some of his last words — " peace that passeth 
understanding." "Tell Mr. L. W. I feel 
enveloped in prayer, and underneath are the ever- 
lasting arms." " In the shadow of His wings 
there is peace, sweet peace." 

" At the time he was passing away," writes 
one of the staff, " we were all in a prayer meet- 
ing especially for him. We were asking for him 
I'ffe : but now, beyond our finite vision, our 



praj^er was answered by life being given him, 
even long life, even life for ever and ever." 

Anna Shipton, in writing to his widow, 
sa3^s : — " If any man serve Me, let him follow 
Me, and where I am there shall also My servant 
he ; if any man serve Me, him shall My Father 
honour. These are the first words that come to 
me. The Lord Himself will comfort you ; I 
dare not add one word of mine. The Lord has 
■called home one of my dearly prized friends ; my 
heart is very sorrowful. . . The word on my 
scroll this morning is ' I will see you again, and 
your heart shall rejoice.' " Another friend 
writes : — " I have never forgotten the deep 
sympathy dear Mr. Newton showed me when I 
was left alone : how I wish I could return it to 
you now." And another — " In Mr. Newton's 
case there was no need to rely on last words to 
assure all who knew liim to Whom he belonged, 
and Whom he served." And again another — 
^' As one who knew your dear husband for many 
years, I have deeply felt the value of that 
steadfast faithfulness to revealed duty to which 
his life bore testimony. Amid the easy com- 
pliance with surrounding conditions, which seems 
the keynote of to-day, his steadfastness bore 
blessing beyond his view. Most assuredly is his 



the joy laid up for the good and faithful servant/ 
JohnNoy, 76 8 9mo. 1896.. 

Hannah O'Brien, 85 14 6mo. 1896. 

Weaste^ near Manchester. Widow of John G. 


Emma Oliver, 39 12 3mo. 1895. 

Llayidrindod Wells. Wife of William Oliver. 
John Page, 66 21 8mo. 1896. 

W or steady Norfolh. 
William Parker, 77 10 Imo. 1896. 


Robert Parkinson, 57 5 12mo. 1895. 

Eliza Patterson, 46 9 5mo. 1896. 

Yorh. Wife of Thomas A. Patterson. 
Jane Pease, 73 24 9mo. 1896. 


John W.Perry. 26 24 llmo. 1895. 

Rathmines^ Duhlin. Son of Robert M. and 

Anna S. Perry. 
John Phillips, 53 22 12mo. 1895. 

BucMand Abbey, near Plymouth. 
Anne J. Pillar, 71 8 8mo. 1896. 

Ranelagh, Dublin. Widow of William Pillar. 
Samuel B. Pim, 63 25 Imo. 1896. 

Clonmel. An Elder. 



Thomas Pim, 80 18 Imo. 1896. 


Arthur H. Piper, 17 22 8mo. 1896. 

Cherry Hiaton^ near Cambridge. Drowned 

whilst bathing at Rio Janeiro. 
Susannah H. Pooley, 84 2 4mo. 1896. 

Norwich. Wife of Samael Pooley. 
John H. Pumphrey, 40 10 2mo. 1896. 


Sarah Randall, 72 17 3nio. 1896. 

Newcastle^ Staffordshire. Wife of George 

Louis Rasche, 64 30 llmo. 1895. 

Minden, Westphalia. 

Louis Rasche was the fourth child of John 
and Julia Rasche (who was sister to Benjamin 
Seebohm). His mother died when he was about 
six years old. Although there are no written 
records as to her influence over him, we may 
well believe that she strove to lead her child in 
the heavenward path. At an early age he appears 
to have been visited by the " day spring from on 
high," which exercised a marked influence on 
his after life. 

When about eighteen years of age, his 
mind seems to have been deeply impressed with 
the importance of eternal things. In later life 



he told one of his friends that he often felt 
constrained to beseech the Lord in private prayer 
to strengthen his faith in the immediate guidance 
of the Hol}^ Spirit. That prayer was answered 
in a very remarkable manner. One day, when 
feeling much troubled in his mind, and praying 
for help, he was visited by the late Sybil Jones, 
from America, who was then at Minden on a 
religious visit. In the interview with him she 
told him the exact words he had made use of in 
his own prayer ; and then she exhorted him to 
attend faithfully to the voice of the Saviour in 
his mind, and that he would be led from 
strength to strength. From that time forth all 
his doubts vanished, and he felt established on 
the Kock of Ages. Many Friends who have 
Tisited Minden will remember his kind and 
brotherly bearing towards them, after the first 
breaking through of the little stiffness which 
seemed natural to him. This, once overcome, 
gave place to Christian fellowship and esteem. 

In the earlier part of his career he was 
•engaged in the manufacture of chocolate, 
in the production of which he excelled ; 
but a tire taking place at his factory, induced 
him to relinquish this portion of his business. 
One of his subsequent occupations was the 



growth of asparagus, for which his garden land 
appeared specially adapted, producing sometimes 
as much as two hundred pounds weight in a day, 
for which he found a ready market, some being 
sent as far as to Berlin. 

It may be truly said of him that he 
endeavoured to follow the injunction of the 
Apostle, to be " not slothful in business ; fervent 
in spirit ; serving the Lord ; rejoicing in hope." 
Although subject to failings incident to human 
nature, yet there prevailed in him a very earnest 
desird to be a faithful steward in the service of 
the Lord, and he gladly did his best to assist 
Friends engaged on religious service. He was a 
very regular attender of the meetings for worship 
at Minden, and after the death of his pious father, 
many years ago, he was appointed Clerk of their 
Two months' meeting of Minden and Pyrmont," 
in which capacity he acted up to the time of his 
decease. Many Friends will remember him as 
the official connecting link between German 
Friends and our own Yearl}^ Meeting, which he 
attended occasionally, taking these opportunities 
for thanking English Friends for their interest in 
their German brethren. 

As to his own meeting at Minden, one of the 
Friends there testifies that he frequently spoke 



in ministry, greatly to the edification of some of 
the attenders. 

Had circumstances been favourable, there is 
reason to believe that he would gladly have 
united with others in mission work, for the 
carrying on of which he was, at one time, 
desirous that a building might be erected. His 
influence on strangers may safely be described 
as beneficial ; he was diligent in distributing 
religious tracts, and would sometimes unite with 
Christians of other denominations in their gather- 
ings for divine worship. 

During the latter 3^ears of his life he had 
frequently suffered from internal ailments, and 
for about five months before his death he had 
been bed-ridden. One of his friends wrote : — 
He bore his affliction with much patience, and, 
judging from utterances made by him during his 
long illness, we may entertain the hope that 
through the tender mercy of our Lord and Saviour 
Jesus Christ, he has entered that blessed state 
where there are no more sufferings or trials. He 
seenicd to feel very easy in his mind, relying on 
free pardon and mercy through our adorable 

Louis Rasche married Amelia, daughter of 
Adolph Giinther, of Minden, and has left three 



children surviving. His wife died in 1883, 
having the comforting assurance of finding a 
place in one of the "many mansions" prepared 
by her Saviour, whom she loved and strove to 
serve. Both she and her husband earnestly 
desired to train their children in the heavenward 
path, frequently exhorting and encouraging them 
to continue in watchfulness and in prayer. 

A brief reference to the origin of the little 
meetings of Friends at Minden and Pyrmont 
may perhaps not be out of place here : — 

In 1790 Sarah Grubb and George Dillwyn 
(the latter from Philadelphia) united in a religious 
visit to some parts of Germany. In the little 
town of Minden (to use S. Grubb's own expres- 
sions), "a little company of sincere hearted and 
exercised Christian travellers welcomed the visit, 
as in the Divine appointment." These were 
dissatisfied with the Lutheran ritual, and were 
found prepared to sit down in silence and wait 
for a right opening in ministry or supplication. 
One of the Town Councillors showed these two 
Friends much attention, and one of his daughters 
became the wife of Benjamin Seebohm's father. 

Four or five years later, John Pemberton, of 
Philadelphia, also visited this little company, as 
well as a few people similarly impressed, at 



Pyrmont, where he died and was buried. Visits 
from other American and English Friends 
followed, and these two places were united as a 
" Two Months' Meeting." 

In 1817 the Meeting for Sufferings appointed 
" a Standing Committee to correspond with Friends 
atPyrmont andMinden." This Committee became 
known as the " Continental Committee." which 
to the present time continues to hold corres- 
pondence with Friends on the Continent, as well 
as with those in the Southern hemisphere and in 
Eastern lands. 

In these earlier days some of the families of 
the German Friends w^ere specially exempted 
from military service, and from taking oaths ; 
but of recent years, owing to the stringent 
military law^s in that land, these exemptions have 
been withdrawn. This has led to the emigration 
of their younger members, and consequent re- 
duction in membership. In this way the meeting 
at Pyrmont has become extinct, and that at 
Minden is greatly reduced. 

These brethren always gladly w^elcome the 
visits of Friends from other lands ; and they 
may well claim our interest and fraternal love. 

A meeting for worship is held by a very few 
Friends residing at Obernkirchen, a village 



situated a few miles from Minden. These also 
are very glad to receive the visits of Friends. 
Ruth M. Ratcliffe, 74 20 5mo. 1896. 

Eliza Rawlings, 75 11 Imo. 1896. 

Stohe Newington. 
Henry B. Reckitt, 79 31 5mo. 1895. 


Ellen Richardson, 87 26 4mo. 1896. 
Rye Hill^ Newcastle- o)L-T\jne. 

" Tell me wherein thy great strength lieth " 
is an enquir}^ suggested by the contemplation of 
the life and work of this devoted labourer. 

The twenty little volumes of " Heart Com- 
munings " and " Prayers " left by Ellen Richard- 
son answer this question, and reveal the secret of 
her strength ; for like a tree whose roots are 
struck deep down to the hidden spring, she 
sought and found that sustaining grace which 
was sufficient for her daily need. 

She was born in 1808, and was the daughter 
of George and Eleanor Richardson, to whose 
Christian training, example, and prayers, she ever 
felt she owed so much. 

She never quitted Newcastle for any other 
permanent residence. She often spoke of her 
school-days at Ackworth as a time of Spartan 



discipline ; but probably tbe training received 
there helped in the formation of her self-reliant 
character, and enabled her to endure hardness as 
a good soldier of Jesus Christ. This very 
strength of character made it difficult for her to 
yield her judgment to that of others, and at times 
brought her into much conflict and deep searching 
of heart. 

In reviewing her early years she wrote in 
1883 : — " It was a long time before I came to 
my Saviour experimentally, as I longed to do. 
Thanks be to Him through eternity, He hath 
taught me to believe in Him, and in this blessed 
experimental belief to find rest to my soul. 
What shall I render to Thee, Lord, for all Thy 
benefits ? " 

The memoranda, commenced in her seven- 
teenth year, record the passing events of her 
daily life, its perplexities, and its trials, tracing 
the steps by which her heart was gradually 
brought under the power of heavenly love. In 
perusing these records, the following lines occur 
as appropriate to her : — 

" Bitter was the daily conflict 

Which thou hadst with hidden foes, 
And intense the aspirations 



Which so often heavenward rose 
For sustaining grace to aid thee 

Till the life-long strife shall close." 

The extensive acquaintance with Friends up 
and down the country which her father formed 
in the course of his religious journeys led to his 
house being made the resort of many ministers, 
when travelling in the service of the Gospel. 
The home house was also the centre of numerous 
philanthropic agencies, which helped to extend 
E. Richardson's sympathies and interests in 
different directions from those in which she 
herself was specially engaged. 

Domestic bereavements followed one another 
in quick succession during her earlier woman- 
hood. In 1840 her brother Isaac's state of health 
necessitated a visit to the Isle of Wight. She 
was his devoted companion during the long 
journey and anxious illness, which terminated 
in his death at Ventnor, far away from all 
their immediate friends. Two years later, 
after a lingering illness, her only sister, 
Rachel Pumphrey, passed away at Ackworth 
School, which had been her home since 
the winter of 1834. This heavy loss introduced 
E. Richardson into near sympathy with her 
brother-in-law, Thomas Pumphrey, in iiis respon- 



sible position as Superintendent of the school : 
and it drew out her heart's deep feelings towards 
his four iiiotheriess children, to whom she long 
extended much tender care. In 1846 she was 
bereft of her beloved mother, and thenceforward, 
for sixteen years, it was her joy to care for and 
comfort her father, whose bright and useful life 
was prolonged into his eighty-ninth year. 

The agitation which so deeply stirred the 
sympathies of England on behalf of the West 
Indian slaves found in Ellen Richardson, in 
common with so many Friends, a warm supporter. 
Most of the fugitives who sought refuge in this 
country from slavery in the Southern States 
were practically helped by the Friends of New- 
castle-on-Tyne ; and at her own initiation, 
warmly aided by her brother and sister, Henry 
and Anna Richardson, the money was collected 
wherewith the freedom was purchased of William 
AVells Brown, and also of Frederick Douglass, 
who became so powerful and eloquent an instru- 
ment in pleading for his people. The warm 
appreciation of this noble man — this true "gentle- 
man of colour" — is plainly evidenced by the 
numerous letters which he continued to write to 
E. Richardson, almost to the day of his death, 
shortly before her own, in which he makes 



constant allusion to the important part she had 
taken in lifting him up from the condition of 
the poor slave-boy to that of " United States 
Marshal for the District of Cohimbia." 

But the life-work of Ellen Richardson, to 
which she set her hand only four years after 
leaving Ack worth School, was the education of 
the daughters of the working-classes of her native 
town. " The Royal Jubilee School for Girls " 
followed the establishment of a similar school 
for boys, to mark in a more permanent way than 
by a brief illumination of the town by candles 
and oil-lamps, the fiftieth anniversary of George 
the Third's accession to the throne. This school 
had been commenced by a few practical philan- 
thropists in association with her father, and she 
was not slow to throw her own energies into its 
management. This she continued with untiring 
zeal and patience, until its doors were closed in 
1884. She was not content with guiding the 
general arrangements, but she personally assisted 
in the classes, giving lessons herself, especially 
in Scripture and in reading — two subjects in 
which the children particularly excelled. She 
felt that upon Bible teaching, and a high standard 
of moral and Christian life, much of the success 
of all educational work must depend. 



To the teachers she was an invaluable 
helper ; and the " Jubilee School " gradually 
became the training ground for young teachers, 
whose studies she personally superintended. She 
impressed upon them the true meaning of educa- 
tion, and would not tolerate any mere mechanical 
teaching. Her book, entitled " Principles of 
Training," was written under a strong sense of 
duty, and she was truly a leader in the elementary 
education of girls. In this way her influence 
extended to other places ; not only the surround- 
ing colliery villages, but far and wide, wherever 
her trainees were placed in charge. It was one 
of the joys of her declining years to receive calls 
from some of these young women, with whom 
she maintained correspondence, and a warm 
personal influence and friendship. One of her 
former pupils wrote, on hearing of her death — 
" I remember very vividly the great delight she 
took in explaining the Scriptures to us, and 
exhorting us to let the Bible be our guide through 

One of the teachers says — " I shall never 
forget her and the many lessons she has taught. 
Truly the world is better for her life. There 
are many, very many, of her scholars who will 
remember her as long as they live." Another 



writes of her as "The helpful guide of my 
youth, the loving, sympathetic friend of later 

In 1860 "the Schools and Charities Com- 
mittee " of the City Council requested her to 
organize and superintend their " St. Mary's 
School " ; and for many years the two institutions 
were carried on by herself and her lady-colleagues 
under similar management. 

From her early days the little fishing village, 
of Cullercoats was the frequent resort of her 
father and his family, and they were often 
joined by her dearly-loved cousin Ann Richardson,, 
afterwards Ann E. Foster. Here they became 
warmly interested in the welfare of the fishermen 
and their families, making personal friendships 
with some, and winning the confidence of all. 
They soon found how great was the need for an 
infant school, so that the little ones might be 
cared for while their mothers were away in the 
neighbouring towns selling fish. A school-house 
was accordingly built, and the lowest age of 
admission was fixed at eighteen months. Toy& 
and mattresses were provided, and this Creche- 
school became almost a unique institution. It 
was not long before it developed, by natural 
growth, into a general elementary school for 




boys and girls. As the numbers increased the 
building was enlarged, and many of the inhabi- 
tants of to-day have grown up to thank "Miss 
Ellen " and " Miss Ann " and their coadjutors 
for their assiduous and watchful care. 

Ellen Richardson's interest in these fisher 
folk was maintained to the end of her life, and 
in her old age she welcomed them to her house 
in Eye Hill, enjoying their hymn-singing, and 
cheering them with her practical advice and 
sympathy. In her recent visits to CuUercoats 
«he would call at their cottages in her Bath-chair 
entering into their pursuits, and endeavouring to 
alleviate their trials. 

Ellen Richardson followed with watchful 
interest the passage of Wm. E. Forster's Educa- 
tion Bill, corresponding with him as to its provi- 
sions. For several years the Schools under her 
care were worked under Government inspection, 
■until the rigid requirements of " the code '' 
proved to be incompatible with her long cherished 
views, and the time came for her to relinquish 
her charge. So the doors of these Schools were 
reluctantly closed, where for so long a period her 
commanding presence in her Friends' bonnet 
bad been so familiar a figure. She seemed to 
jbave been born to rule ; her word was law, but 



it was the law of love. She inculcated the prin- 
ciple of "no rewards" — except the reward which 
right actions bring, and virtually " no punish- 
ment." Excellent discipline was maintained ; 
her marked individuality dominated the school, 
for she had the power of infusing her own spirit 
into those about her. By endeavouring to place 
her girls on the true foundation, she sought to 
equip them, intellectually and morally, for their 
future positions as domestic servants, teachers, 
wives and mothers of families, or in whatsoever 
sphere of life their lot might be cast. 

Though deeply attached to the Society of 
Friends, during much of her life Ellen Kichard- 
son felt that her line of service lay mainly out- 
side its borders. She held for a short time the 
responsible position of Elder, but her increasing 
deafness made it difficult for her to discharge its 
duties effectually, and she withdrew from the 
office. She was diligent in her attendance at 
meetings for worship and discipline so long as 
her strength permitted ; and when confined 
mostly to her house, her heart often went up in 
prayer during meeting time, on behalf of her 
friends, and she manifested an earnest interest 
in the spiritual life of the congregation. Her 
prayer for the widely extending family circle 



stands recorded in one of her note-books — 
*' Gather us as a family to Tliyself , Oh Heavenly 
Father, that not one may be wanting in that 
great day of account." 

By the sudden death of her brother George 
in 1865, E. Richardson had been left alone in the 
old family house in Albion Street. She felt this 
bereavement intensely, as her note-book thus 
records — " I am left behind, a lonely pilgrim, to 
finish my earthly journey without one by my 
«ide to cheer and comfort me " ; but adding a 
little later — " I have been sweetly sustained. 
Yes, God can bear up His children, even in the 
midst of the billows. 

She soon after w'^ards removed to a house 
where she was nearer to her beloved cousins 
Eobert and Ann Foster, and other members of 
the family circle, where she greatly enjoyed visits 
from the remaining friends of her early days, 
correspondence with whom was one of the 
especially valued alleviations of her solitary life. 
Here she continued, sadly noting the removal by 
death, one after another, of her old companions, 
until, with the exception of Robert Foster, she 
was left the sole survivor of her generation. 
Nevertheless, her lonely hours were greatly en- 
livened by her intercourse with her numerous 



relatives of the succeeding generation, in whose 
pursuits she took a deep interest. Her reading 
too was comprehensive. She was careful what 
she read, but both in general literature and in th& 
writings of earnest men of other denominations, 
she endeavoured to keep her mind abreast of 
modern thought, no matter how wide the circle,, 
if only the centre was Christ. 

In her old age, E. Richardson's energies were 
again and again called into exercise as occasions 
arose. In her anxiety that the Bible should not be 
excluded from the Board Schools, or its teaching 
unduly restricted, she addressed a paper to the 
Northern Conference of Friends' First-day School 
Teachers, which resulted in a resolution which 
was sent to all the School Boards within the 
range of Durham Quarterly Meeting, urging the 
Boards watchfully to guard this point in all 
their Schools. 

Under a pressing sense of the importance of 
total abstinence as a part of a teacher's practice 
as well as of class teaching, E. Richardson 
obtained the services of a qualified Friend to 
prepare a paper entitled "An address to Teachers 
on Temperance Instruction," which she took 
much pains to disseminate, especially in Board 
Schools. One of her last public efforts was the 



reprinting and wide circulation of a " National 
Peace Anthem " for the use of schools, so as to 
imbue the popular mind with the pacific spirit of 
Christ's Gospel. 

Her memoranda contain frequent allusions 
to her thoughtful care for her servants, who she 
felt were specially committed to her trust, and ear- 
nest were her prayers for their best welfare. She 
received her reward in the unremitting, faithful 
services rendered to herself in her declining 

For about thirty years she was troubled 
with a chest afEection, which often greatly 
disturbed her rest ; and latterly she was repeatedly 
brought very low by other infirmities. Writing 
to a distant friend in view of her approaching 
end, she said : — " What can we do but throw 
ourselves on the mercy of Christ, who can cover 
us with His own spotless robe, and present us 
to the Father in heaven ; for truly, — 
' Nothing in my hand I bring, 
Simply to Thy cross I cling.' 
I can adopt this from the very bottom of my 

As the end drew near, a marked mellowing 
of her strong character was observable ; but her 
independence was maintained to the last, and 



her love of managing was never lost. During 
her final illness her sufferings were at times 
intense ; but through Divine grace she was 
enabled to bear them patiently, and to feel 
her Saviour's presence very near. Early on a 
Sabbath morning she entered into her rest, to 
see face to face the Saviour whom she had loved 
so long, and, we doubt not, to hear the gracious 
words : — " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto 
one of the least of these, ye have done it unto 

James Richardson, 83 11 4mo. 1896. 


James N. Kichardson, 79 4 5mo. 1896, 
Lissue^ Lishurn. A Minister. 

We are deeply sensible of the loss the 
church has sustained by the removal of this 
beloved Friend, who for forty-seven years, 
through Divine grace, occupied a position of 
much importance, and rendered many valued 
services to the cause of God and for the benefit 
of the community. 

James Nicholson Richardson was the fourth 
son of James Nicholson and Anna Richardson, of 
Lisburn, where he was born on the 16th of 
Eighth month, 1817. He was educated at 
Prospect Hill, Lisburn, and at Fishponds School, 



near Bristol. His business career was one of 
marked ability. In conjunction with some of 
his brothers he took the management of a branch 
house in Liverpool. While there he married 
Margaret Maria Haughton, of Banf ord, Co. Down. 
Her early death, after a few years of domestic 
happiness and earthly prosperity, was a sore 
trial ; but as he bowed in resignation he was 
enabled to see the Lord's purposes in it. The 
remembrance of her beautiful example and 
sweet, gentle influence (strengthened by the 
faithful counsel of a valued friend and minister 
in Liverpool Meeting) led him to fix his affections 
more and more on heavenly things ; and, in 
obedience to the convictions of the Holy Spirit 
that the Lord had need of him in other spheres 
of usefulness, he withdrew from the active 
business life in which he had been very much 
engrossed. He returned to Lisburn in 1849, and 
settled at Lissue, where he resided until his 
death, on the 4th of Fifth month, 1896, having 
been a minister of the Gospel nearly forty years. 

Being naturally fond of farming, he adopted 
this as a pursuit (full of interest to him), and in 
the midst of a large labouring population he not 
only gave a great deal of employment, but did 
much towards the advancement of the material 



and religious coudition of the neighbourhood. 
Almost every local object of a Christian or 
philanthropic character had his sympathy and 
active support. He threw himself heartily and 
loyally into the work of the Society of Friends 
also into the interests of the Bible Society, the 
cause of Total Abstinence, and other objects, 
doing what he could to relieve suffering and 
poverty, and to provide for the education of the 
children of the poor. He contributed largely 
and collected funds for the establishment and 
maintenance of institutions for the accomplish- 
ment of these objects, giving time, labour, and 
counsel freely to promote their success. 

He also took a deep interest in the education 
of the children of the Society of Friends, and 
was a valued member of the committee of 
Ulster provincial and Brookfield agricultural 
schools, acting as clerk and treasurer to both for 
a long period, and taking a lively interest in all 
their concerns until near the close of his life. 

He willingly accepted the responsibility, and 
discharged the duties of trusteeships for the 
Society, believing that attention to the temporal 
interests of the flock, and the necessities of its 
poorer members was second only in importance, 
to the supply of its spiritual needs. He was 



Clerk of Lisburn Monthly and Ulster Quarterly 
Meetings for many years, also Clerk of the 
Monthly and Quarterly Meetings of Ministers and 
Elders ; and, in the decline of life, when these 
offices were filled by younger Friends, he felt it 
not only a great privilege, but an incumbent 
duty, to attend all meetings as they came in 

He was recorded a minister of the Gospel 
about the year 1858. Faithfulness in this service 
he ever after considered to be his mission in life. 
He was deeply sensible of the need of a renewed 
anointing of the Holy Spirit for the exercise of 
his gift, and often under this Divine leading was 
enabled to speak to the spiritual condition of 
individuals as though he had had outward know- 
ledge of their experience. Having himself 
realised the dangerous position of the careless 
and indifferent, he was often concerned to appeal 
to those who were neglecting the great salvation 
provided for them through the one ofEering for 
sin of our Lord Jesus Christ. 

He felt it laid upon him frequently to visit 
meetings, especially smaller ones, within his own 
Quarterly Meeting ; and was often liberated to 
attend those in Leinster and Munster. He 
several times visited Friends in Scotland and 
parts of England. 



On one occasion he was liberated for re- 
ligious service in America, and was also one of 
the representatives from Dublin Yearly Meeting 
at the establishment of the Canada Yearly 
Meeting ; and attended in a similar capacity the 
Conference of Yearly Meetings at Richmond, 
Indiana, in 1891. In all these services he had 
the unity of Friends, and much enjoyed the 
increased opportunities of social and religious 
intercourse which they afforded him. He con- 
tinued to cultivate an intimate correspondence 
with many dear friends across the Atlantic, not a 
few of whom tarried with him whilst visiting in 
this country, his house being ever open to receive 
the messengers of the Gospel. His sympathies 
reached to all who loved the Lord Jesus Christ 
in sincerity, and in this spirit he gladly extended 
a helping hand to many engaged in His service. 

The loss of his second wife, and more 
recently, the decease of a beloved and only 
daughter, were among the means in the Divine 
hand of lessening his hold on earthly things. 
During an illness of a few months' duration 
he was preserved in patience, and in the clear 
exercise of his facuties, and in a firm and 
continued trust in his Saviour, recognizing no 
other ground for acceptance than the mercy of 



God manifested in the sacrifice and atonement of 
our Lord Jesus Christ. 

We reverently believe his purified spirit is 
now for ever with Him whom it was his joy to 
serve, even with Him in whose presence is 
fulness of joy, and at whose right hand there are 
pleasures for evermore. 

Albert Ring, 42 4 6mo. 1896 

Redland, Bristol, 
Thomas Rogers, 85 28 lOmo. 1895, 


Mary Russell, 65 13 Imo. 1896 


John F. Y. Scott, 6 3 4mo. 1896 

Clerhenioell. Son of Francis and Sarah J, 

John W. Seel, 25 30 5mo. 1896 


Mary Serginson, 67 25 3mo. 1896 

Darlington. Widow of William Serginson. 
Hannah Shackleton, 76 18 5mo. 1896 

Leeds. Wife of William Shackleton. 
Elizabeth Sharp, 53 6 7mo. 1896 

Reading. An Elder. 
Harriet Shires, 68 11 8mo. 1896, 

Knostropj near Leeds, Wife of Joseph Shires, 


George Simmonds, 35 14 9mo. 1895. 

Levingtov.^ near Ipswich. 
Catherine Smith, 72 20 7mo. 1896. 

Kirhy Muxloe^ near Leicester. Widow of 

William Smith. 
(Charlotte Smith, 75 2 8mo. 1895. 

Mountmellich. Wife of Humphrey Smith. 
James Smith, 68 13 llmo. 1895. 

A herdeen. 

Mary Smith, 86 19 2mo. 1896. 

Brighouse. Widow of James Smith. 
Sarah M. Smith, 72 7 9mo. 1896. 

Airton^ near Settle. 
Sarah Smith, 67 22 Imo. 1896. 


Hannah Southall, 69 9 lOmo. 1896. 

Brooklands, Manchester. 
KoBERT W. Steel, 9 18 5mo. 1896. 

Neiocastle-on-Tyne. Son of John W. and Mary 


Ann Stevens, 75 30 Imo. 1896. 

Bournemouth. Widow of Willoughby Pontifex 

Kachel a. Stevens, 79 6 4mo. 1896. 
B anbury. 

John L. Sturge, 58 8 Imo. 1896. 





John D. Swinborne, 76 23 Imo, 1896. 

Ledhury Rocicl^ London. A Minister. 
Caroline Theobald, 81 24 9nio. 1896. 

Lelghton Buzzard. An Elder. 
John A. Thistlethwaite, 55 4 9mo. 1895. 


Christiana Thompson, 84 28 Inio, 1896. 
RavKlon. Widow of William Grimshaw 

Sarah Thompson, 80 2 2mo. 1896. 

A shton-on- M ersey. Widow of J oseph Thompson . 
Sydney Thompson, 29 16 Imo. 1896. 

Manchester. Son of Henry and Esther E. 


Thomas Thompson, 56 25 8mo. 1896. 

KirJcoswald, Stricldand. An Elder. 
Maria Thorp, 86 19 llmo. 1895 

Aspley Guise, Near Wohurn Sands. 
Thomas Thorp, 75 22 4mo. 1896. 


Edith M. Thwaites, 27 17 5mo. 1896. 
Kendal. Daughter of Thomas and Eliza J. 

Elizabeth Tinckler, 65 30 5mo. 1896. 

Blachroch, Duhlin. 
James Hack Tuke, 76 13 Imo. 1896^ 

Hitcliin. An Elder. 



James Hack Tuke, banker, of Hitcbin, Herts, 
son of Samuel Tuke, of York, was born at York, 
13tb of Nintb montb, 1819, and died at Hitcbin, 
13tb of First montb, 1896. In 1848 be married 
Eb'zabetb Janson, wbo died in 1869 ; and in 
1882 be married Georgina Mary Kennedy, wbo 
survives bim. Tbree cbildren of bis first marriage, 
a son and two daugbters, also survive bim. 

Always a loyal and devoted member of tbe 
Society of Friends, James H. Tuke worked for 
tbe Society in many ways, but cbiefly in connec- 
tion witb education and Friends' Foreign Missions. 

Early in life, in tbe winter of 1846, be was 
invited to accompany and assist William Forster, 
wbo was working for tbe Friends' Committee in 
tbe famine-stricken districts of tbe west of 
Ireland. From tbat time until tbe end of bis 
life, tbe condition of tbe inbabitants of tbese 
districts, and tbe amelioration of tbat condition, 
became tbe strong desire of bis beart. Tbe 
cbronic suffering of tbe people appealed to bis 
sympatby and imagination, and bow to place 
tbem in a state of sufficient prosperity, and 
remove tbem from tbe risk of famine consequent 
on bad barvests, was tbe problem be set bimself 
to solve. He studied tbe question tborougbly, 
and devoted tbe best energies of mind and body 



to its solutioD. God blessed liis efforts. Success 
beyond what is ordinarily given to quiet work 
crowned his endeavours ; and before he passed 
away he had the happiness of seeing his long- 
cherished hopes and wishes for the encourage- 
ment and development of all possible industries 
in these districts very largely fulfilled, and a 
permanent Commission appointed by Government 
established (of which he was the first member) 
to carry on the Vvork so well begun. 

In 1872 James H. Tuke was in Paris during 
the "Commune/' assisting the Friends' Committee 
there in distributing seed, etc., to the small 
cultivators in the districts round Paris, who had 
suffered so severely during the siege. This work, 
owing to the disturbed condition of the city, was 
not accomplished without difficulty and even 
danger. During the intervals of his more public 
work James H. Tuke did not neglect the interests 
of the towm and neighbourhood in which he 
lived. He was ever ready to initiate or join with 
others in forwarding movements for the benefit 
of the place and people ; and among the poor of 
Hitchin his name w^as a household word. 

The amount of labour involved in his life- 
long w^ork for Ireland was very great, and was 
carried on in the face of many difficulties. Chief 



among these were : — First, the remoteness of 
the field of his work, and the difficulty of travel- 
ling in wide districts where railways were 
unknown. Second, the variety of men and 
Governments whom he had to work with. 
And third, his constantly delicate health, which 
for days together made work of any kind 
impossible. The task which he had set himself 
to accomplish involved frequent contact with 
men of all classes and of all shades of opinion — 
social, religious, and political. The strength, 
patience, and gentleness of his character enabled 
him to overlook differences, and to draw what 
was good out of all with whom he was associated. 

His constant prayer for " a right judgment 
in all things " was surely answered, and he was 
supported in all his undertakings by his sense 
of the love of God, the compassion of Christ, 
and the guidance of the Holy Spirit. 
David Veale, 66 19 8mo. 1896. 

Hamford^ Norioich, 
Edward T. Wakefield, 75 21 6mo. 1896. 


Edward Walker, 90 9 lOmo. 1895. 

Wooldale, An Elder. 
Thomas S. Walker, 62 29 8mo. 1896. 




Henry Walpole, 62 15 8mo. 1895. 

Pittsworth^ Queensland. 
Jane Wall, 90 11 llmo. 1895. 

Keio. Wife of the late James Wall. 
Henry Warner 59 3 5ino. 1896. 


Deborah Watson, 66 9 2mo. 1896. 

Cochermouth. Wife of John H. Watson. 

Eleanor Watson, 78 2 lOmo. 1895. 

Fcdmouth. Widow of Robert Watson. 

Anna L. Westcombe, 74 3 lOmo. 1896. 


Anna Louisa Westcombe was the youngest 
child of Samuel and Elizabeth AVestcombe, who, 
with their family of two sons and six daughters, 
lived duriDg her early years on their farm at 
Dunnington, near Alcester. In this pleasant 
home her opening powers awakened to the enjoy- 
ments of beautiful scenery and country charms, 
which were always a delight to her ; her affec- 
tionate nature expanded in the love of her parents? 
brothers, and sisters, and her bright, young mind 
rapidly developed in the training, teaching, and 
companionship they delighted to give her. But 
beyond the home circle they had not many in- 
timate associates, and to this comparatively 



secluded life was no doubt partly due the shyness 
and reticence which long characterised her. 

Her school life was spent at Worcester, 
where she also remained as a teacher, with her 
sister Lucy Westcombe, for a number of years. 
AVhen they retired it was to settle down with 
their brother and two unmarried sisters in the 
suburbs of this city. It was an uneventful but 
happy life. They were greatly attached to each 
other, and for years their interests were chiefly, 
but not exclusively, in the family circle. 

" Along the cool sequestered vale of life 
They kept the even tenor of their way." 

In company with her sister Eliza, A. L. 
Westcombe drew and painted botanical specimens 
for their brother, and for a long time had regular 
hours every week at the museum for copying the 
l)eautiful pictures of birds in the illustrated works 
there. Her poems were written at intervals all 
tiirough her mature life, and these form the best 
exponent of herself. Many of the earlier ones 
were written for the essay meetings begun by 
Letitia Impey, and held occasionally at the 
School for about thirty years, under the name of 
^' The Budget." 

A. L. Westcombe became more and more 



impressed with the importance of the Total 
Abstinence movement, and her verses on this, 
subject in " Wasted Grain " came from her own 
deep conviction. With more sympathy than her 
natural reticence allowed her to exhibit, she felt 
for the sorrowful and needy, and showed it 
practically in the labours of a Dorcas Society, of 
which she was for over fifty years the efficient 
manager. After her death the clothing was- 
found in beautiful order, ready for the sale, and 
a clearly written paper with it, headed " Directions 
for my successor." 

With many beautiful talents, she was ready 
to do the simplest work, and she held that 
" whatever is worth doing at all is worth doings 
well." Always conscientious, the love of Christ 
became more and more manifestly the motive- 
power in her life, and her desire to fulfil engage- 
ments promptly was very marked. She was 
much interested in the Worcester Infirmary, and 
her visits were welcomed by the patients^ 
especially the children. 

She worked hard while the work had to be 
done ; but in the intervals for recreation travelling 
was a great enjoyment to her, and she paid 
many interesting visits to the Continent of 
Europe. In the Ninth month, 1896, she went 



Mnth her sister Emma to Rome, and enjoyed 
seeing it much, as well as Naples and Pompeii. 
They had turned their faces homewards, and had 
€icconiplished the greater part of their journey, 
when most unexpectedly the call came to her to 
^' come up higher." There was no ability to tell 
those she loved how slie felt. But she loved her 
Saviour; and they thankfully believe that through 
His redeeming mercy she is gone to be "forever 
with the Lord." 

Mary Whitaker, 83 14 5mo. 1896. 

AckwortJi. An Elder. 

In Mary Whitaker passed away a personality 
long more or less familiar to large numbers of 
Friends. Her long life at Ackworth rendered 
her position almost unique in its opportunities of 
an extensive acquaintance ; and the mere fact 
that twenty-five school generations of boys and 
girls at Ackworth have known her face and figure, 
and great numbers of them and of their friends 
have experienced her hospitality — whilst rendering 
a lengthy account of her the less necessary — 
invites some reference to her life in these pages. 

Born in 1813, the daughter of Robert and 
Hannah Whitaker, her childhood and early 
snaidenhood were spent chiefly in the School, and 



the rest of her life in close proximity to it. It may 
emphasize the realization of the range of the 
connection of Eobert Whitaker and his family 
with Ackworth to be reminded that just one 
hundred years expired between the entrance of 
Robert Whitaker into the service of the School 
and the death of his daughter. 

As the only child of the Superintendent of a 
large establishment, she experienced the dis- 
advantages as well as the privileges of theposition^ 
and, as the child of two strong characters, she 
appears to have acquired, at an early age, a habit 
of straight-forward expression which, until the 
graces of Christian life exerted their full influence 
over her, was sometimes more frank than con- 
siderate. The critical spirit was, indeed, so alert 
in her that, had her career been that of a w^oman 
of the world, she would probably have acquired 
an unenviable reputation for censoriousness. 
Happily, with this tendency, was allied a keenly 
conscientious temperament, which controlled the 
exercise of a faculty so of len full of temptation to 
the possessor; and as her judgment ripened and her 
experience of life broadened her sympathies, and, 
as her aim strengthened to have her will brought 
into subjection to the charitv which is of God, 
she was enabled so to overcome this defect that 



those who only knew her as the gentle and kindly 
spirit of her later years, probably never suspected 
that she had ever had anything of the kind to 
contend with. 

Part of her education was obtained in a school 
at Doncaster, presided over by Maria Peacock, the 
benefit of whose judicious training she ever after- 
wards valued ; but her character and tastes were 
chiefly formed by the life in the school at 
A ck worth, which, during her girlhood, would 
appear to have been rather peculiarly rich ia 
intellectual activity among the teachers. Upon 
a very observant mind and a memory strong by 
nature, and cultivated with assiduity, these local 
influences were in after-life very observable in a 
correct and chastened taste in literature, and a 
keen enjoyment in thoughtful conversation. 

Unfortunately, her girlhood was exposed to 
much acquaintance with the anxieties and fears 
that accompany sickness in a large establishment. 
Between her eleventh and eighteenth years, 
occurred that series of virulent fevers wiiich has 
become historic in the School annals. Durinp- 


the first sixteen years of her life, twenty deaths 
had occurred in the family. Her sensitive nature 
was so much affected by this frequent recurrence 
of mortal illness, that she retained a timidity in 



unusual in an elderly person. Until almost the 
last year of her life, her friends at Arnside, where 
for fifteen or sixteen winters she spent some 
months each year, were often amazed by her 
walking feats. It was not at all uncommon with 
her, when there, to stroll eight or nine miles 
through the country lanes and woods in the 
morning, and, after doing so, to receive company 
in the evening v/ith the brightness and gaiety of 
spirit of one entirely free from fatigue. Whilst 
a great admirer of scenery, and gifted with 
insight into Nature's kaleidoscopic . changes, her 
enjoyment of country life perhaps rose highest 
when it afforded her opportunities for obtaining 
botanical rarities for her friends at a distance. 
When the copses yielded their harvest of scarlet 
pezizas, or the lily-of-the-valley clothed acres of 
woodland, she gave no little employment to the 
local post-office at Arnside by sending through it, 
^ilmost daily, numerous boxes of them to her 
friends. It was, indeed, a very marked feature 
of her character to bear her friends much in her 
thoughts ; and to gratify others was a supreme 
pleasure to her. 

On the occasion of her funeral, a Minister 
observed from the gallery that, if it were desir- 
able to summarise concisely the most striking 



characteristic of the deceased, it might very suit- 
ably be done in the words " G iven to hospitality " ; 
and a Friend, who had known her from his child- 
hood, has spoken of this feature in her as "a real 
gift." In her exercise of this gift there was 
generosity without ostentation. On greater oc- 
casions, she shone in the art of effacing herself 
that her guests might shine. Having made ample 
provision of kindred spirits and the means of 
enjoyment, she sought no other personal gratifi- 
cation than to see that her guests had theirs. As 
often as the years came round, came also the 
pleasant gatherings at her house at Ack worth o^ 
the Friends of her Meeting, old and young ; and 
two or three large parties of children from the 
School usually formed an annual feature of her 
economies. At Arnside, where her life was 
idyllic, it was a great joy to her to entertain some 
of her older and more intimate friends from a 
distance, and, in the evenings, during their stay, 
to invite her Arnside friends to participate in the 
pleasure of. their society. When such companies 
were small, Mary Wliitaker was seen at her best. 
Then came forth the ricli stores of reminiscences 
which an unusually agile and retentive memory 
enabled her to use to advantage in illustration o£ 
almost any subject that arose. She had lived 



through a period and seen something of a society 
in which the graces of conversation were, perhaps, 
more valued, or more cultivated, than is to be 
expected in a day when music and song and 
other modern forms of entertainment perhaps too 
much crowd out the fine art of the raconteur, and 
the well-ordered discussion of great subjects. 
For the former school of recreation she had both 
taste and capacity. Her knowledge of Friends, 
either from personal acquaintance or other sources^ 
was remarkable ; and her recollection of inci- 
dent, to the minutest detail, gave a life to her 
manner of relation which made her a very 
interesting story-teller. Her expression of 
opinion had no uncertain sound. Of her views 
she made no mystery ; yet, whilst holding them 
with reasonable tenacit}^, she alwa^'s sought to 
know what could be alleged against them, and 
listened to opponents with the patience of a truth- 
lover. If there were limitations to her liberality 
of sentiment, they were perhaps chiefly due to a 
natural refinement and delicacy of mind which, 
on the one hand, drew her sympathies to the 
well-bred and cultured classes, and, on the other, 
caused her to shrink from needless social contact 
with the coarser and ruder elements of societ}^ 
Hence her dread of seeing her beloved village 



colonised by coal miners ; and hence, too, very 
largely, her strong conservative bias in politics. 
She undoubtedly idealized the claims of the one 
class to gentle life, and the tendency to debase- 
ment of the other ; but her heart was ever open 
to the appeals of humanity, and real distress and 
suffering had few truer sympathizers. She was 
a friend to every practical movement within her 
range for the elevation of the people and the 
promotion of all forms of improvement in their 
homes. She took more than a casual interest 
in the work of the Bible Society and the Band of 
Hope, and the education of the children of her 
village had in her an active and executive worker. 
The Friends' Dorcas Society was with her a pet 
institution, whose interests she cared for beyond 
the limits of her own life by leaving £200 to it 
by her will. The Temperance cause had her 
zealous support when she could no longer take 
much active part in its work. 

She had the true woman's aversion, from a 
tendency, all too common in some recent light 
literature, to deal with great moral questions in a 
flippant spirit. She thought her sex degraded by 
the needlessly free handling of some vicious 
conditions of society by certain popular writers. 
Her mind was sometimes much perturbed by her 



apprehension of the mischief lurking for young 
people in ill-advised reading. The morning she 
last left Arnside she left all the bustle attendant 
upon her immediate departure to hurry to the 
Chairman of the Committee of the Educational 
Institute to beg him to induce the Committee to 
withdraw from its library " The Manxman," 
which she considered was calculated to wound 
the morals of unwary readers. She delivered her 
sentiment in breatliless haste, and hurried away 
almost while delivering her message. 

Although full of charity towards various 
sections of the Christian Church, and enjoying 
the friendship or acquaintance of many of their 
members, she was above all things attached to 
her own Society, whose welfare was to her a 
source of deep interest. Whilst much inclined 
to take a very humble view of her fitness to 
serve it in any executive capacity, she very much 
valued her association with the Meeting of 
Ministry and Oversight as a spring of refresh- 
ment to her own spiritual growth. As an Elder, 
she viewed her position as one of real responsi- 
bility in the Church, and, when occasion called 
for it, did not fail to act up closely to her 
lively sense of its duties, though the exercise, 
when of the nature of admonition, was seen by 



her friends to be painful to her natural feelings. 
Occasions of this nature occurred more than 
once in the little Meeting at Arnside, and it was 
instructive to some of her friends there to 
witness the courage which her conviction of 
duty imparted to a nature that shrank from 
giving pain to any religious sensibilities. When 
feeling it right to give a word of encouragement 
to a minister, her diffidence made it only a little 
less difficult to perform the duty than when called 
upon to censure. She was an unwearied attender 
of meetings for discipline, and is believed to 
have been present at nearly every Yearly Meeting 
during the last forty years of her life. Her 
recollection of incidents, persons, and discourses 
connected with these gatherings was remarkable, 
and a source of unfailing interest to herself and 

The teaching of this long life of eighty-three 
years, uneventful as it was, and unmarked by any 
great popular activity, lies chiefly, perhaps, in the 
silent, unobtrusive and gradual expansion of a 
good woman's genius for making a simple, social 
and hospitable home a centre of refreshment to 
busy men and women, and an example, in an age 
of excitement, of the charms of quiet tastes and 
pursuits. Viewed from this point, the service of 



such a life is of no small value ; and, though 
Mary Wliitaker's voice was rarely heard in public, 
her life and spirit were potent encouragements to 
verity and righteousness in those among whom 
she moved, and to a reverent Christian attitude 
towards the general affairs of life. 

She was in the enjoyment of her usual heahh 
until within a few days of her death. A cold, 
which at first awoke no unusual anxiety either in 
herself or her friends, gradually fastened upon 
her lungs and throat. Twenty-four hours before 
the end she became conscious that she was ill, 
and sent for one of her most intimate friends ; 
but probably to the last she was unaware that 
her sickness was likely to terminate fatally. Her 
kind neighbour and friend, the Rector of Ack- 
worth, called upon her in the morning of the 
14th of Fifth month, and read with her the 
twenty-third Psalm. Immediately on his retiring 
from the room, and before he had left the house, 
she asked her domestic to assist her to rise, that 
she might offer prayer by the bedside. On 
attempting to raise herself, she fell back and 
immediately expired, passing, we may reverently 
believe, througli the " valley of the shadow," 
supported by the hand of the loving Guide of 
whom her earthly friend had just read to her. 



and whose reading she had followed with her 

Frances White, 81 24 Imo. 1896. 

Stolce Newington. Widow of James White. 
Sarah White, 82 9 8mo. 1896. 

Waterford. Wife of Thomas R. AVhite. 
Maria Whiting, 90 17 Imo. 1896. 

Heading. Widow of Samuel Whiting. 
Hannah Wicklow, 90 28 lOmo. 1895. 

Drummond^ Grange. Widow of Joseph 


Jane Wilkinson, 49 9 lOmo. 1895. 

Wray^ near Lancaster. 
Richard S. Williams, 72 19 2mo. 1896. 


Eliza Ann Willis, 80 30 7mo. 1896. 
Bradford. An Elder. Wife of John Willis, 

Grace Wilson, 75 9 9mo. 1896. 

Kendal. An Elder. 
Jane A. Wilson 56 7 6mo. 1896. 

Besshrooh. Wife of John Wilson. 
Ronald Wilson, 27 18 3mo. 1896. 


William Winward, 66 22 6mo. 1896. 

William Winward, JrjN., 37 15 5mo. 1896. 

Middleshoi 'on gh . 



Francis W. Wood, 61 14 2mo. 1896. 

DarliiKjton, A Minister. 

Francis William Wood was born at Sea- 
combe, in Cheshire, on the 29th of Third month, 
1835, and was the third son of Benjamin and 
Anna Wood. 

When he was two or three years old his 
parents went to live at Newton in Bowland, from 
which place he was sent to Ackworth School in 
1845. In those days travelling was not so easy 
and comfortable as now, and a journey across the 
great county of York was a formidable thing for 
a little lad of ten. Half-yearly vacations had 
not yet broken the monotony of Ackworth life, 
and to enter as a scholar there at that time 
generally meant a long separation from all the 
happy associations of home and friends. 

He continued at Ackworth, then under the 
superintendence of Thomas Pumphrey, as scholar, 
apprentice, and teacher, for fourteen years. 

As a boy he was studious, manly and honour- 
able, always fond of healthy exercise, but 
thoughtful, serious, and ever anxious to do his 
best, and to lend a helping hand to others. In 
school parlance he was known in those days as a 
" tug." 

Of a later period one of his fellow-teachers 



writes : — " T was very fond of Frank, especially 
when we were teachers together at Ackworth. I 
have still in my possession a number of his early 
letters to me. There was no one among my 
friends to whom T could sp^^ak so trustingly on 
the highest subjects as to him, and I distinctly 
recall to this day one or two conversations as we 
walked up and down " the flags," or round the 
great garden. His judgment, always much more 
matured than mine, was very helpful to me." 

Another says : — " I have often regretted 
that I have seen so little of my old comrade and 
friend since I came to Ireland. But I have felt 
much sympathy with him in liis unostentatious, 
self-sacrificing labours for the good of others. 
What abilities he had in certain directions ! I 
often thought it was a pity that he gave up teach- 
ing, for which he possessed some admirable 
qualifications. He had the gift of maintaining 
discipline without harshness or friction ; and he 
could work up his class to take an enthusiastic 
interest in their lessons. I used to envy and 
admire his success in these things. And there 
was a sort of noble chivalrousness about his 
character, which appealed powerfully to the 
imagination of boys. He could be so indignant 
with what was false or base, and so cheerfully 



Francis W. Wood, 61 14 2mo. 1896. 
Darlington, A Minister. 

FraDcis William Wood was born at Sea- 
combe, in Cheshire, on the 29th of Third month, 
1835, and was the third son of Benjamin and 
Anna Wood. 

When he was two or three years old his 
parents went to live at Newton in Bowland, from 
which place he was sent to Ackworth School in 
1845. In those days travelling was not so easy 
and comfortable as now, and a jom'ney across the 
great county of York was a formidable thing for 
a little lad of ten. Half-yearly vacations had 
not yet broken the monotony of Ackworth life, 
and to enter as a scholar there at that time 
generally meant a long separation from all the 
happy associations of home and friends. 

He continued at Ackworth, then under the 
superintendence of Thomas Pumphrey, as scholar, 
apprentice, and teacher, for fourteen years. 

As a boy he was studious, manly and honour- 
able, always fond of healthy exercise, but 
thoughtful, serious, and ever anxious to do his 
best, and to lend a helping hand to others. Iti 
school parlance he was known in those days as a 
" tug." 

Of a later period one of his fellow-teachers 



writes : — " I was very fond of Frank, especially 
when we were teachers together at Ack worth. I 
have still in my possession a number of his early 
letters to me. There was no one among my 
friends to whom T could speak so trustingly on 
the highest subjects as to hiiiK and I distinctly 
recall to this day one or two conversations as we 
walked up and down " the flags," or round the 
great garden. His judgment, always much more 
matured than mine, was very helpful to me." 

Another says : — " I have often regretted 
that I have seen so little of my old comrade and 
friend since I came to Ireland. But I have felt 
much sympathy with him in his unostentatious, 
self-sacrificing labours for the good of others. 
What abilities he had in certain directions ! I 
often thought it was a pity that he gave up teach- 
ing, for which he possessed some admirable 
qualifications. He had the gift of maintaining 
discipline without harshness or friction ; and he 
could work up his class to take an enthusiastic 
interest in • their lessons. I used to envy and 
admire his success in these things. And there 
was a sort of noble chivalrousness about his 
character, which appealed powerfully to the 
imagination of boys. He could be so indignant 
with what was false or base, and so cheerfully 



hopeful as to the ultimate victory of what was 
true and lovely and of good report. My memory 
runs back to the time of our boyhood and appren- 
ticeship at Ackworth, and I feel very sad when I 
think of the old times and the subsequent 
changes. But for dear Frank the pearl gates 
have been opened, and all is explained ; and he 
has entered into his rest ! " 

At the close of his engagement as a teacher 
at Ackworth he went to fill a similar post at Sid- 
cot School, and subsequently to a school at 
Brighton. Here he made the acquaintance of 
four dear friends, whose influence and kindly 
interest in his welfare continued as a source of 
much blessing to him during many years. On 
hearing of his death, the following beautiful and 
touching lines were sent by one of them to his 
bereaved and sorrowing widow and family : — 

" Lines on seeing the text ' With Christ ' on 
F. W. Wood's Memorial Card." 

" ' With Christ' ! sweet companionship 
For one who walked by faith with Him 
Along his busy earthly course. 

However mists or clouds might dim 
The rugged path that lay between 
The things of time, and things unseen. 



' With Christ ' — In life, in death — he knew 
In whom he had believed ; and now 

He sleeps in Jesus, and the seal 
Of God's own peace is on his brow. 

No more can sin, or grief or pain 

Trouble this ransomed one again. 

' With Christ ' ! Henceforth his spirit shares 
The blessedness those words imply ; — 

The perfect love ; faith changed to sight ; 
Death swallowed up in victory ; 

All earth-born shadows drawn aside, 

He sees Him and is satisfied ! " G. 

It is not known where or through what 
instrumentality F. W. Wood's religious impres- 
sions were deepened into true conversion, but 
there can be no doubt that at this time his heart 
had been surrendered to the keeping and guidance 
of his Redeemer, and those who knew him then 
and afterwards can remember with what earnest- 
ness he would endeavour to persuade others to 
follow Christ. 

In 1865 he went for a while to Paris, with 
the object of perfecting his acquaintance with 
the French language. From thence he went to 
Lisburn, and became tutor in the family of Joshua 
and Anna Pim. Here he met and was 
united in marriage with Susanne Henriette 




Ouldenschu, of Lausanne, in Switzerland ; and 
during a happy union of more than thirty years, 
with a family of six children, they were one in 
heart in every effort to promote the happiness 
and true welfare of all who came under their 

F. W. Wood was a teacher in the Friends' - 
First-day School at Lisburn, and afterwards took 
the superintendence of that at Moyallon, when, 
in 1867, he had left his dear and kind friends of 
Lisnagarvey to become tutor to the children of 
John G. Eichardson, at Moyallon House, County 
Down. In this situation he remained for six 
years, winning the good esteem and affection, 
not only of his employers and pupils, but of all 
with whom he had to do. About three hundred 
scholars frequently attended at the First-day 
School at Moyallon, and those who witnessed 
there the perfect order and control obtaining over 
all, the gentle kindliness of his method and man- 
ner, and the earnest and deep attention of his 
scholars, will not soon forget the impressions 
they received. His work was a labour of love, 
and his aim was the conversion and establish- 
ment in the faith and hope of the gospel of 
those assembling round him on these quiet 
•Sabbath afternoons. 



In 1873 he bade farewell to Ireland and 
removed to Darlington, where he eventually took 
charge of the mission work at Hopetown Hall 
and the superintendence of the Adult and First- 
day Schools which were established there. For 
twenty years he continued in this employment, 
'and his life was a very busy one, Mothers' 
Meetings, Temperance lectures, Band of Hope 
and Gospel meetings, Bible classes, and many 
other services of a kindred character following 
each other in quick succession. But his interest 
never flagged, and as the shadows began to 
lengthen round him, and the outward man was 
seen to be decaying, the bright sunshine of a 
Saviour's love was making for the " light at 
eventide," while the inward man was still as 
fresh and vigorous as ever. In 1893 the work 
at Hopetown Hall was transferred to other hands, 
and he entered into business as an optician, and 
was thus occupied when the Christian Visiting 
Society engaged him as one of their agents. His 
fitness for this post was thoroughly appreciated, 
and almost his last work, ere he laid aside his 
earthly labours, was to write and send forward 
his report for the year. 

F. W. Wood was recorded a minister by 
DarHngton Monthly Meeting in 12th Month, 



1880, and on several occasions was acceptably 
engaged in the service of the Gospel, both in 
Ireland and in England. It was when thuS 
engaged that he caught the cold which ultimately 
ended in paralysis and death. His illness was 
comparatively short, and within a fortnight from 
the time of the first attack he was called away, as 
we reverently believe, to be " for ever with the 

All the members of his family gathered 
round his dying bed, and to each he gave a 
special message. Not a murmuring or impatient 
word escaped his lips ; and though at times 
suffering agonising pain, his spirit was preserved 
in the calm but glad assurance of a Saviour's 
love. From the 9th to the 12tli of Second Month 
he was so weak that often it seemed as if, during 
the paroxysms of the cough, he would be carried 
away. But amidst all his acute suffering he 
could rejoice that soon he would be at " peace, 
perfect peace." 

After speaking words of loving advice to 
his children, he said, — " Dear children, never 
forsake your father's God," and added, — "I have 
fought a good fight, I have finished my course, 
I have kept the faith ; henceforth there is laid 
up for me a crown of righteousness, which the 
Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that 



day, and not to me only^^ (these words he repeated 
over and over again) " and not to me only^ but 
unto all them also that love His appearing." 

On the morning of the 10th, his daughter 
feeling unable to trust herself to read the portions 
of Scripture he so much enjoyed to hear, one of 
his little grandchildren took her mother's place,, 
and it was a touching sight to see the homeward- 
bound pilgrim listening, with his hand on the 
dear child's head, and the little girlish voice 
reading from " Daily Light " the precious words 
of strength and comfort to one who was so soon 
to enter on the full fruition of all the promises 
of God. 

John Wood, 53 28 4mo. 1896. 

Sheffield. A Minister. 
Elizabeth Woodhead, 83 15 9mo. 189G. 

Liverpool, Widow of Robert Woodhead. 
Samuel W. Wright, 84 13 llmo. 1895. 

Mansfield. An Elder. 

Richard Esterbrook, a native of Liskeard, 
Cornwall, where he was born 21st of Second 
Month, 1813, died at his home, in Camden, New 
Jersey, 11th of Tenth Month, 1895, in his eighty - 
third year ; a beloved member and minister of 
Haddonfield Monthly Meeting. In his youthful 



years he manifested a deep interest in the cause 
of truth and righteousness ; and, surrendering 
himself to the transforming power of Divine 
grace, he was early called to the work of the 
ministry. In 1859 he removed with his family 
to Canada, and thence to Philadelphia, finally 
settling in Camden, where he engaged in the 
manufacture of steel pens, which at that time 
was almost a new industry in the United States. 
This proved a successful enterprise, employing of 
late years several hundred persons, in whose 
temporal and spiritual welfare he took a deep 
interest, while their regard for their sympathetic 
employer was strong and lasting. Attached to 
his own religious Society by conviction, as well 
as education, he was earnestly concerned that its 
principles and testimonies should be preserved in 
their integrity. Though his life was a checkered 
one, its trials were borne with rare Christian 
fortitude, giving striking evidence of the unfailing 
source of strength whereon he steadfastly relied. 
The final summons followed a short illness of 
such a nature as to permit little vocal expression ; 
but, through the mercy of that Saviour in whom 
he trustingly confided, we reverently believe he 
has entered into the " rest which remaineth for 
the people of God." 

Erratum in last years volume. 
Page 86, fifth line, should read : — 
Mary Gkipper, 79 5 4mo. 1895. 

hifanU whose names are 7iot inserted. 

Boys. Girls. 
Under three months - - 1 1 
From three to six months - 3 
From six to twelve months -